Cerulean City I - The Gift!
Cerulean City was comforting in a way Slate couldn't explain. There were still far too many people and buildings for his taste but the smell of the sea in the air, the fresh breeze, was comforting. It was almost like coming home but in Slate's mind home was a small cave on Mt. Silver. And perhaps, a Pokémon Center on the edge of the wilderness.
The city was built on a group of hills overlooking a bay. At the far end of the bay, across a calm body of water, there was a lighthouse that Slate knew belonged to a man named Bill. Once Slate's business in the city was done it was there he'd be making his way.
But first he had to survive Maggie’s gift.
While the average civilian knew it as the Pokémon Healing Certification Exam, those who underwent it, and the even smaller number who passed it, preferred to call it The-Exam-From-Hell as they felt it was a more accurate assessment of the experience.
To even take the exam you had to complete several objectives. First, you had to be sponsored by an existing certified Healer. This was the easiest task to complete as Nurse Joys, the most common kind of Healer, were quite eager to relieve some of their own workload and were always on the lookout for interested and motivated individuals to add to their ranks. Each Nurse Joy could sponsor a single candidate per year, which the Pokémon League claimed was to prevent the field from being devalued. They politely ignored the fact that it was rare for even half the Nurse Joys to put forth a candidate each year.
The next objective was experience which could be accomplished in one of two ways. The first was through attending a certified PokéUniversity with a specific focus on Anatomy and Pokémon Healing. The courses often took six to eight years depending on the capabilities of the student in question and were subsidized by the Pokémon League. The second was through Trauma Training.
Nurse Joys and other certified Healers had the ability to conscript locals should they prove themselves competent and in need of assistance. They assisted the Healers in any way that they could, often getting on the job training in whatever they needed as they needed it. Some Pokémon Centers offered this to civilians as a way to learn, but by doing so they would need to spend ten years employed in this role to become qualified in their own right. Unless you were in a High Danger Area.
High Danger Areas were zones where the wild Pokémon were monstrously strong, to the point where skilled Rangers were usually posted nearby to provide a notable, but ultimately futile, defense. These Rangers understood their purpose was to buy time for the Pokémon Centers to evacuate the medical personnel first, before seeing to their own survival. The priority on the medical personnel, and the reason why these Pokémon Centers exist in such places is simple:
Pokémon Centers located in High Danger Areas were often called upon to heal Wild Pokémon whose strength could reshape landscapes. It was in the interest of everyone to ensure these Wild Pokémon saw no reason to approach settlements, often building up a small rapport with the local Wild Pokémon, to show they could approach these Pokémon Centers for healing. Very few of these areas existed and only one was in Kanto: The Silver Mt. Range.
Slate spent years under the direct tutelage of Nurse Joy Maggie in a High Danger Area. Not only was his experience requirement waived, but so was the third and final requirement: Mandatory service period.
Trainers and Healers were considered extensions of the Pokémon League. In times of strife they would be the first to be conscripted to fight in wars, although wars were becoming rarer and rarer as the decades passed. The last true war was fought almost two decades ago, and inter-regional relations were at an all time high. Not even the Unovans, the aggressors of that war, maintained a war industry any longer, even if they were a bit cold to other Regions.
The mandatory service period dictated that all Trainers and Healers had to be employed by the Pokémon League in some capacity for a period of two years. This could be anything from Rangers, Search and Rescue, Manufacturing, to anything that kept society safe and afloat. That Slate's mandatory service period was waived was because the Pokémon League knew that he had proved himself capable of handling and healing dangerous Pokémon and they hoped to entice him, and other candidates like him, into remaining employed for life with a wide range of benefits.
And they were substantial.
Pokémon Healers were paid the highest salary of any League employee. They had unrestricted access to state of the art healing facilities, could requisition almost any Pokémon from the Pokémon League for use in their Pokémon Centers, and had a string of priority access benefits in the civilian sector. In many places, being a Pokémon Healer put you ahead of whatever local celebrity was popular at the time.
Of course, all of this assumed that you passed the Pokémon Healing Certification Exam.
It had four parts. The first theory section dealt with general biology and anatomy questions without any questions relating to Pokémon in general. Here candidates also had to prove their basic understanding of standard sanitation protocols, as well as answer a few theoretical situations in the form of an essay. This was the easiest part of the exam, in the way that it usually eliminated 80% of potential candidates allowing the examiners to focus on the ones who were actually competent.
The second theory section was focused solely on Pokémon biology. Potential Healers had to display a basic understanding of every known Pokémon type, how a Pokémon's environment might impact treating them, and a few esoteric questions to see how deeply potential candidates studied the material. This section usually eliminated another 18% of total potentials which allowed the real testing to begin.
The last two sections were similar to their predecessors only Slate would have to correctly interact with and treat two patients, one human and one pokemon, in a test environment. If he managed to complete, not even pass, these two sections, he would have succeeded where over 99% of potential Candidates failed. The number of successful Pokémon Healers was truly that small.
He arrived in Cerulean City yesterday. Upon entering the Pokémon Center the attending Nurse Joy immediately spotted him and marched up to him telling him he almost missed the registration period for the exam. Ignoring the waiting Trainers who watched on in stunned disbelief as she marched Slate into her office, she forced him into a chair and had him fill out a stack of paperwork.
Once that was done he called up Maggie who barely let him get a word in edgewise. After getting tip after tip thrown at him, Slate bid her goodbye, and that he'd contact her after the exam. Then he marched to the closest Trainer Room, opened it, and threw himself at the nearest unoccupied bed. He was out like a light and was woken up by Nurse Joy physically dragging him out of the room. He barely convinced her that allowing him to shower was a good idea as it'd help prove he understood the concept of sanitation.
Ten minutes later he was in a small, cramped room with dozens of other men and women hunched over a desk. Three hours of questions, essays, and frantic scribbling filled Slate's focus. It was designed to be impossible to finish, forcing the candidates to prove they had the ability to pick and choose what knowledge was truly important.
Slate managed to fill out less than a third of the test. While the tests were graded the Candidates were permitted a brief one hour break to relax and eat a quick snack. At the end of the hour, those that passed were called back into the room.
From sixty-five potential candidates, four advanced to the next round of testing, including Slate.
The Pokémon theory section was no different from the first part. Slate was forced to cut his answers shorter in some areas, keenly aware of a clock ticking from the front of the room. Quiet swearing behind alerted him that one of the other Candidates was having problems. A moment later he heard a chair being shoved back as they ran from the room.
The examiners said nothing, merely collecting the discarded test and watching the candidates silently. Slate forced himself to refocus and continued filling out the test. He was able to fill out a larger portion this time, nearly 60% of it, and Slate hoped he passed as he turned it in. He and the two other hopefuls waited again, keenly aware of how empty the room they were in.
Slate was mentally drained. When this was all over he was going to call Maggie up and tell her to find the nearest volcano to swim laps in. Just as he pondered the possibility of laying his head down and taking a small nap the examiners returned. “Trainer Slate, please follow me for the next portion of your exam,” a man said.
Slate quickly rose to his feet, following the man out of the room. Behind him he could hear the other two examiners disqualifying the remaining Candidates and Slate nervously swallowed. He was the last one.
They stopped before a closed door and the examiner looked at Slate calmly before gesturing to the door. “Your patient is behind this door. Your task is to correctly identify what is ailing them, treat it, and to deal with any unexpected issues that might arise. Do you understand?” he asked.
“I do.”
The man nodded. “Then your timer begins the moment you enter the room. You have ten minutes.” He turned to leave.
“Wait!” Slate quickly called out. The man turned back with an unimpressed look on his face. “I'd like the details of my patient please.”
For a long moment the examiner was silent before a smirk crossed his face. “I see Maggie's been talking. A lot of Candidates miss it on their first time through,” he said, handing Slate a sheet of paper.
Slate internally shuddered at the thought of doing the exam multiple times. Instead he gave the examiner a tight smile. “Thank you.”
Slate quickly reviewed the paper. A little girl by the name of Lacey had been brought to the hospital by her father, David, because she'd experienced recurring stomach cramps for the past month. Her height and weight were normal and the nurses note section mentioned she walked without issue. Slate knocked on the door to alert his patient he was entering and stepped through after a moment.
“Hello, my name is Slate and I'll be your Healer today,” Slate said, closing the door behind him. He turned to face his patient. “I understand Ms. Lacey has been experiencing...”
Slate trailed off. A short woman, just taller than Slate, was staring at a magazine intently in the corner, in a pretty blue dress. Around her neck was a paper sign that read, in big bold letters, Father.
On the examination table, kicking their feet, hunched an overly muscled man in a tight t-shirt. Around his neck was a paper sign that said, in big bold letters, Eight-Year Old Girl. “Lacey” was glaring at Slate.
“My tummy hurts!” Lacey said in a booming voice. Lacey's father barely looked up from his magazine.
“I've had to pull her out of school six times in the past month,” the father explained before looking back at his reading material. Slate nodded, forcing himself to put the oddity of the situation out of his mind to focus on the actual test.
“Right, well let's check your vitals. First, we'll check your heartbeat,” Slate said, grabbing a stethoscope. “This will be a little cold, alright?”
Lacey grumbled as Slate pushed the small metal circle to her back. Not hearing anything abnormal, Slate gently took Lacey's wrist. “Do you know how we check your pulse?” he asked.
Lacey shook her head no so Slate explained, having her count with him. Not finding any abnormalities there, Slate had her open her mouth wide so he could examine her throat.
“You've had a lot of dental work, Lacey?” Slate asked, noting the extensive work.
“Yeah, it's a pain,” Lacey caught herself, “I mean no! My baby teeth are perfect!”
Slate smiled, realizing the patient accidentally broke character. “Alright, I'm going to be checking your stomach for pain. If anything hurts, even slightly, let me know right away.”
He gently began to push Lacey’s sides, idly noting the muscles underneath. “Do you like climbing on the playground, Lacey?” he asked.
Lacey giggled. “Eh, that tickles. I mean, no!” Lacey shouted as her father had to bite his hand to not laugh.
Not finding anything wrong, Slate stepped back, mentally going over what might else be the issue here. “Why don't you like the playground?” Slate was reasonably certain children loved playgrounds.
Lacey looked down. “Because Lana and Angie won't let me on the swing set!”
Slate almost rolled his eyes as he realized that the true test of this part of the exam wasn't medical knowledge but interacting with humans. The whole setup was to mislead him.
“Let me guess. Your tummy usually hurts after they don't let you on, right?” Slate asked.
Lacey slowly nodded, not looking Slate in the eye. With a sigh, and feeling utterly ridiculous, Slate bent down so Lacey could look him in the eye. He did not have to bend far.
“Lacey, it isn't nice what they're doing to you, but you don't need to run away.”
“I don't?” Lacey asked in a wide-eyed manner.
Slate briefly closed his eyes, extremely aware of Lacey's father chuckling in the corner. “You don't,” he finally said in a strained voice.
“Well, what can I do? They're bigger than me!”
Lacey's father left the room at that point, shaking with laughter.
“Yes but you can be smarter than them. The next time you want to go on the swing set, grab some of your other friends and children. Start playing a game of tag and make sure to shout and cheer and yell as loudly as you can. Make it seem like you're having a blast. And that's when you invite Lana and Angie to play.”
Lacey made a face. “Why would I do that, they're mean! They're butts!”
Slate took in a long deep breath before letting it out. “Because they might be nicer to you in the future and might share the swing set with you if you invite them. Or failing that, if they join in playing with everyone else it'll leave the swing set open for you.”
The examination room door opened, revealing the Examiner and Lacey's father.
“What's your final assessment, Candidate?” the examiner asked with an amused grin on his face.
“Well, other than Lacey having a bowl of Rare Candies for breakfast every day, her tummy aches are caused by social anxiety. Lacey's father should speak to the school teachers if Lacey cannot fix the situation herself,” Slate said.
“Not Rare Candies, bro! I work out with my Machoke every day. You should try it, you'll pack on the muscles fast,” Lacey said, giving Slate a slap on the back. Slate nearly fell to the ground but caught himself at the last moment.
“Right. Well you passed. You did everything a good Healer is supposed to do and even some they're not required to. Please follow me to your final exam,” the Examiner said.
Slate did so. They went deep into the Pokémon Center, away from the public areas, and they passed rooms full of specialized machines capable of healing Pokémon of all sorts of injuries. They finally stopped before a door leading to another examination room.
The examiner held out two Poké Balls for Slate. “In one of these you will find a Chansey to assist you. In the other is a Pokémon that a Ranger dropped off after catching it in the city. You need to perform a threat assessment and deal with any unexpected issues that might pop up. Do you understand?”
Slate nodded, taking the Poké Balls. “Did the Ranger leave any other information?”
The examiner smiled in a way that Slate did not particularly like. “No but he is known for dropping his problems off on other people.” And with that the man walked down the hallway, entering a different room.
Slate entered the room, noting a second examiner sitting quietly in the corner. She nodded but gave Slate no further information. Slate placed both Poké Balls on the examination table and retrieved a Scanner from the wall.
Scanners could link to a Poké Ball, even ones not registered to a Trainer, and view data concerning the Pokémon within. Things such as the species of Pokémon, their height, weight, and general health were all displayed. Nurse Joys and other Healers used it to examine unknown Pokémon before they tried to heal them.
After scanning both Poké Balls, Slate frowned before releasing Chansey.
Chansey appeared in a blast of red light and waved her little nub arms at Slate in greeting. Despite the situation Slate couldn't help but smile at her. “Hello Chansey. I wanted to talk to you before we tried to heal this Pokémon,” he said. He held out the unreleased Pokémon.
“Inside is a Whismur but we don't know what's wrong with it yet. So when I release it, I need you to do one of two things depending on how it acts. If it's awake and not crying I'd like for you to help keep it calm when it finds itself in a new environment. Then we can talk to it and find out more about what’s bothering it.”
Slate sighed. “But if it is awake and crying, we’re going to need to put it to sleep somehow. We won't be able to help it if we're deafened and immobilized by its crying.”
Chansey bobbed in agreement. Slate quickly went through the drawers in the room, finding a few sets of ear plugs. He carefully helped insert a pair into Chansey's ears before putting in his own. He turned to offer the examiner another set but was not comforted by her grinning face or heavy earmuffs on her head.
With a sigh, Slate turned back to Chansey and nodded to signal he was ready. She bobbed back and before his nerve could fail him, Slate released the Whismur onto the examination table.
Immediately Slate was driven to his knees as an ear piercing cry cut past his ear protection. He futilely clapped his hands over his ears to protect them but it didn't help. Slate struggled to lift Whismur's Poké Ball to try to return it, when suddenly the noise cut off.
A pink pulse floated through the room and relief flooded his body, causing the pain to recede. He plucked the ear plugs from his ears, which were surprisingly bloody, and removed Chansey's from her ears. “Thank you,” Slate said, nearly wincing at the volume. While his ears were healed from Chansey’s Heal Pulse, it still had not been pleasant.
Chansey bobbed but moved toward the examination table. Whismur laid seemingly asleep on the table, resting uneasily. Slate and Chansey stood over it and the Trainer leaned over to examine the Pokémon curiously. “What did you do?” he asked Chansey.
Chansey chirped before her ears glowed slightly. Suddenly the gravity around Slate changed and he nearly collapsed at the sudden weight. It vanished just as suddenly as it appeared, leaving Slate gasping for breath. “Right. Well let’s check to make sure we didn’t make things worse.”
To Slate’s relief they had not. To his concern, the Whismur was still twisting fitfully in its sleep.
“Alright, use Heal Pulse on it, Chansey,” Slate ordered. Chansey obeyed, bathing the room in a healing light. “What the-?”
Slate grabbed Chansey and pulled her down. A blast of air roared from the sleeping Whismur's mouth and flew to where Chansey's head had just been. Carefully they got back up.
“Alright, it used Sleep Talk to use what looked like Supersonic, I think. Let's commence a physical examination to see if there is anything else. But carefully, stay away from its mouth,” Slate said.
His words proved prophetic a moment later as the sleeping Whismur used Snore. Fortunately its mouth was directed away from Slate and Chansey but the attack hit a nearby cabinet, wrecking it and causing Whismur to stir. Slate and Chansey paused, neither moving an inch, while Whismur tossed and turned. Its eyelids twitched at the same rate Slate’s heartrate jumped but their fear left them: Whismur settled back down into sleep.
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“That was too close. Let's continue,” Slate said. “We’ll start on the limbs.”
They did so, quickly examining the Whismur's hands and feet. There was nothing odd about the Whismur's body or face, and even its mouth seemed to not be the source of the problem. At last Slate and Chansey checked its ears.
“Hold on, look at this,” Slate told Chansey. He pointed to a dark object in the Whismur's ears. Carefully he removed it with a pair of tweezers, and was startled to pull out a decent length twig. “This must have been giving it an earache.”
He deposited it in the trash. “Hit it with another Heal Pulse while I check its other ear.” Chansey did so, healing the Whismur of whatever internal damage the stick might have caused. Slate found nothing in the other ear.
“I think that was everything,” Slate said. “Ready to try to wake it up?”
Chansey nodded, ready to put the Whismur back to sleep should it be needed. However, it wasn't as the door to the examination room opened, revealing an Exploud.
The large, angry looking Pokémon ignored Slate and Chansey as it picked up Whismur. The Whismur stirred awake, before wriggling happily at the Exploud as the pair walked out the door.
“Please wait one moment,” the examiner in the corner finally spoke. She walked toward the exit while removing her hearing protection. “We'll have your results shortly.”
Slate exhaled, exhausted before collapsing on the examination table. He turned to look Chansey in the eye. “Thanks for the help, Chansey. I couldn't have done it without you,” he said, giving her an exhausted smile. She bobbed in agreement. Slate considered her for a moment.
“You remind me of the Blissey who helped teach me. She was a hellion and not afraid of anything. Heh, at one point she stared down a Snorlax who was wrecking the Pokémon Center's cafeteria and it backed off. It was awesome,” Slate told her. Chansey seemed to laugh at that, causing Slate to smile once more.
The examination room door opened and the examiners entered. Slate nervously shot up, standing before them. Silence filled the room as they stared at one another before one of the examiners looked toward Chansey. “Is he a Healer?”
Slate turned to Chansey as she seemed to consider the question. With a bob of her head she moved to stand beside Slate, patting his leg in a comforting manner. The examiners smiled.
“I don't understand,” Slate said. The examiners stepped forward to shake his hand.
“The Pokémon Healing Certification Exam is one of our society's most important tests. Healers help keep everyone alive, everything moving, and without Healers our society would fall in less than a day,” the woman who watched his exam with Chansey explained. “But you cannot be a Healer on your own, you need to rely on Pokémon to be truly effective.”
Another examiner took over. “The exam is how we find out who really understands the skills and knowledge needed and who doesn't. Those who can pass the theoretical sections prove they have the knowledge but that's only half the battle. We need to know our Healers have the skills as well.”
The first examiner continued. “Bedside manners are important for any Healer, as well as realizing that not every problem they face will have a medical solution. You proved that with Lacey.” The gathered examiners laughed and even Slate’s lips twitched. But he remained focused.
“The last portion with Whismur is how we find the true Healers. You need to be able to help Pokémon, even those who are attacking you in their pain. And most of all you need to have the trust and respect of a Pokémon who can heal others.”
“The final barrier to becoming a Healer isn't passing the tests, but earning the respect of your future companion,” the examiner said, nodding to Chansey, “although there was some talk if the exam was already rigged in your favor.”
“What do you mean?” Slate asked. Nothing about the exam had been easy. The examiner nodded to Chansey.
“The Blissey you knew is that one's mother. You knew her as a Happiny before she was transferred to Blackthorn to grow as a healer, but essentially you grew up together. It was expected for you two to work well together,” the examiner explained with a shrug. They didn’t seem bothered by the advantage.
Slate looked at the smug Chansey. “You knew this entire time! You! Gah!”
Slate gave up, lunging toward Chansey. She squealed as he began to tickle her sides, just as he did when she was a Happiny. She turned the tables on him and the pair collapsed on the floor breathlessly after several vicious attacks.
“Yes, congratulations,” the first examiner dryly said. “Chansey will be registered to you as your Pokémon and your Trainer ID will be updated to match your new responsibilities. You also gain a single Non-Combatant Carry Slot that Chansey will be registered to. You may not have a Pokémon Center, Healer, but you can now proudly call yourself a Trainee Joy. After your probation period of four years at a certified Healing location, you can apply for the position of Nurse Joy. Congratulations, Healer Slate.”
The man turned to leave before pausing. He glanced over his shoulder, giving Slate a smirk. “We hope to see you again.”
Slate grinned. He couldn't wait to tell Maggie.
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After a night of filling out more paperwork and introducing Chansey to the rest of his Pokémon, Slate collapsed into his bed and slept for twelve hours straight. He only woke up because the Nurse Joy of the Pokémon Center he was in, who happily greeted him as a colleague and insisted he call her Nancy, told him Maggie was demanding him via the video phone. So after grabbing a stack of food from the cafeteria, including the scones Ranger Holly raved about, Slate sat down in one of the private rooms reserved for Healers.
It was bliss.
Slate pointedly ignored Maggie as he ate his scones. The ticking eyebrow was almost as enjoyable as the food he ate and he would have to remember to thank Ranger Holly for pointing them in his direction. After a particularly delicious bite, he deigned to speak to Maggie. “How's Blissey?”
Whatever Maggie was going to say was cut off by Blissey forcing her way in frame. She waved her hands at Slate excitedly, chittering non-stop. Slate held a finger up to her to get her to stop for one moment. “Hold on, there’s someone else who wants to greet you, Blissey.”
Chansey appeared in a flash of red light as Slate released her and the two Pokémon greeted each other warmly, talking a mile a minute in their strange manner. Maggie's tick finally stopped and she smiled happily at Chansey next to Slate. “So you did pass.”
Slate nodded. “Thanks for the tips by the way. Although I was thrown off when the eight year old girl I was supposed to be treating was a muscled titan of a man.”
“Muscled titan huh? Was he single?” Maggie asked. Slate thought about it.
“He had a ring on his finger, sorry. You'll have to find some lonely Ranger to warm your nights.”
Maggie stuck her tongue out. “As if any of them would be worthy of me. Still, well done and congratulations, Slate. I'm very proud of you.”
Slate paused in his meal, giving Maggie a huge smile. “I couldn't have done it without you and I especially couldn't have done it without Chansey. It was nice to see her again. Although, I thought she was assigned to Blackthorn forever?”
Maggie smirked. “She was supposed to. She was invaluable to the Blackthorns because of how she could ground Dragons with Gravity. But the moment she found out you were taking the Exam-From-Hell she insisted she be paired with you. I've had clan elders calling me on the phone for weeks, it's been entertaining. I've let them all go to voicemail.”
“What did you do?” Slate asked. He knew his guardian well enough to know nothing good happened. She gave him an innocent look.
“Me? Why would I do anything to the fools who launched Draco Meteors into the wilds, nearly killing my ward when he wasn't capable of communicating he was human? I don't have an ax to grind with them at all,” she said. Slate winced at the memory.
It was during his time on Mt. Silver. Slate had picked up a Ranger's Beacon, a small metal beacon worn around the neck, because of the blinking lights and interesting metal, and carried it with him. Someone alerted Blackthorn City that a rogue Pokémon, most likely carnivorous since it carried a dead Ranger's Beacon, was on its way to their city. So they responded by blanketing the wilderness outside their city with Hyper Beams and Draco Meteors.
Slate had his Starter at the time and the two had nearly been killed. Neither had forgotten the experience and most likely never would. One tends to not forget a wall of danger and death approaching from the sky after all.
“So what did you do?” Slate asked. Maggie smiled.
“You know those Dragon Scales the Rangers sometimes drop off for the Pokémon League?”
Slate nodded. The Pokémon League paid Trainers of all levels for certain evolutionary items as they were always in high demand. Dragon Scales were rare because they only came from exceptionally powerful Dragon-types in their prime. All too often they would die in the wilderness and be consumed by other Pokémon, leaving the treasure to rot.
“Well, I might have redirected Kanto's usual shipment from Johto to Unova. Specifically to the Village of Dragons,” Maggie said with a smile that wouldn't melt butter. Slate choked.
“You didn't!” he said in disbelief. Maggie laughed.
“I did! Despite their fabled Dragon's Den, Blackthorn won't have any Dragon Scales to hand out this year.”
The Blackthorn Dragon's Den was infamous worldwide due to the high concentration of Dragon-type Pokémon. However, Dragons are combative by nature, often killing those they view as weaker to themselves. It was Maggie who revealed to Slate that Blackthorn City had to constantly cull their own Dragons, occasionally sending them out with citizens or gifting them to Trainers, in order to prevent the Dragons from fighting and killing one another to extinction. It was rare for a powerful Dragon Pokémon to arise in Blackthorn because often they had to be killed to prevent them from killing all of their rivals. Thus, Blackthorn rarely had the option of harvesting their own Dragon Scales.
A single, annoyed Nurse Joy just dealt a politically devastating blow to a foreign city, purely because they had once accidentally attacked her ward.
“Will you get in trouble?” Slate asked. Maggie shrugged while Blissey waved goodbye to her daughter and wandered off. Slate gave Chansey a fond pat on the head.
“The Pokémon League won't care. Dragons are Dragons globally, so exporting the Dragon Scales doesn't bother them in the slightest. There might be some concern that Unova might use this as an opportunity to rebuild their disbanded military but with the discovery of Fairy-type Pokéenergy and Pokémon, Dragon-types won't ever reign uncontested again,” Maggie explained. And then she gained a savage grin.
“Blackthorn, however, is in a sticky situation. They have to maintain their image among the population and not handing out Dragon Scales for even one year to promising Trainers will be noted. A friend of mine told me that a standing bounty has been placed, one million Poké per Dragon Scale, to be paid by Blackthorn, not that they're listed as the posters.”
Slate whistled. A million Poké was no small sum and it spoke of the importance of Dragon Scales to Blackthorn that they would be willing to bankrupt themselves to possess some. But Slate was still concerned.
“Are you sure they won't do anything against you?”
“No but it's doubtful they would do anything beyond minor annoyance. I’m at a remote Pokémon Center, one that mostly caters to Rangers who help keep the wilderness out of their Region. Hurting me would only hurt them in the long run.”
Slate nodded, satisfied. He then cracked a grin. “Maybe I should keep an eye out for some Dragon Scales, it seems like a good way to make some money.”
Maggie laughed. “First you take their Chansey, now you take their cash. Going to kidnap their princess next?”
Slate blinked. “What princess?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “One of their proteges ran off with her Pokémon. They can't find her in Johto but they've ruled out kidnapping because she apparently sends her cousin insulting letters every once in a while.”
Slate chuckled. “What does he think of that?”
“Considering he’s Champion Lance and she’s using some rather colorful language, I don’t think he’s particularly pleased with her.”
That made Slate choke on his laughter. “She’s taunting the Champion? I hope I meet her one day, she sounds fun.”
Maggie's eyes sharpened in glee. “Does my darling baby boy have a crush?”
“More like in want for a partner in crime.”
“Dating sure has changed since I was your age.”
“Well, decades pass and all that. Falling out of touch with the norm isn’t uncommon, mom.”
Maggie gasped. “How dare you call me old! I’m still as sexy as I ever was!”
“Gross. And not at all doesn’t really improve your argument,” Slate countered.
“Slate!” Real irritation bled into Maggie’s voice.
“Well I gotta go,” Slate said, reaching out to end the call.
“Wait!” Maggie shouted. “I got you a gift. Although I don’t think you deserve it now.”
Slate warily eyed her. “What for?”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “For passing! For joining the ranks of exceptional human beings everywhere! For following in my footsteps in the path of healing!”
“Right, that's why I did everything.”
Maggie shushed him. “You're about to tell me I'm the best mom you've ever had.”
“You're the only mom I've ever had.”
She pouted. “Look, do you want your gift or not?”
Slate smiled at her put upon expression. “Sure. What did you get me?”
“I got you a Field Healer ranking.”
Silence. “You did what?” Slate shouted. Chansey squeaked beside him in shock and he quickly apologized for startling her. Maggie sat there oozing smug satisfaction.
“I got you a Field Healer ranking,” she said almost casually, as if she didn't do something incredible. “Enjoy those two extra Carry Slots. And being on call for every disaster in a twenty kilometer radius. And for counting as a Healer instead of a Trainer whenever you visit a Pokémon Center.”
“How? No, why? No, how?” Slate asked, ignoring her fiendish smile. He didn’t even care about the latter two benefits which were really more responsibilities.
“The how is easy, I used your previous experience at our Pokémon Center to qualify you for a Field Healer ranking. You're still on your probation period to become a proper Nurse Joy, but you've proven your ability in an area that most people flee from. The why is because you're a trouble magnet!”
“I'm what now?”
“Trouble magnet with a capital T!” Maggie said, wagging her fingers for effect. It was lost on Slate. “Because of your stunt with the Scyther, as well as your encounter with the Onyx, I made a case to the Pokémon League that you would benefit from having more Pokémon on hand to deal with dangerous encounters. Once you catch them, that is. As you're trained in healing, now certified, and proven your ability in battle against a Gym, they happily approved it.”
Slate sat there, contemplating how this accelerated his plans. He always intended to pursue a qualification as a Field Healer once he achieved the Trainee Joy qualification. It would allow him to use any healing experience done while traveling to count for his probation period, without needing to be in a Pokémon League certified Healing location. However, you usually couldn’t apply for a Field Healer qualification until you completed one year as a Trainee Joy, which meant working in a Clinic or Pokémon Center.
And that was just on the healing end. You also had to have earned at least eight Badges to prove your ability to command Pokémon. Finally, you also had to participate in a truncated Ranger Program, to demonstrate your ability to survive in the wilderness and act in dangerous situations.
Which stuck in Slate’s mind. He could buy Maggie using his experience, both as a child and living in the Silver Mt. Range. But the eight Badge requirement was something Slate was certain couldn’t be exempted. It was proof of his ability as a Trainer and with only four Pokémon and one Badge to his name, Slate knew that wouldn’t work.
“So who pulled some strings?” he asked.
To her credit, Maggie didn’t even blink. “I did.” Nor did her voice waver.
“It’s impressive how easily you can lie to your son,” Slate countered. Maggie flinched at that but Slate pushed past his own hurt. He wanted to know. “I can buy you arguing my childhood experience counts toward the Field Healer requirements in some aspects but certainly not all of them. Who pulled the strings on the Badges?”
Maggie gave him a sad yet proud smile. “You really are too smart for your own good, Slate. You’ve barely started your Journey and you’ve managed to catch the attention of some very powerful people.” She sighed.
Slate’s mind raced as he considered everyone he had met thus far. The young Trainers near his age he dismissed, reasoning that none of their interactions would have encouraged this sort of expense. And it was an expense, there was no way someone powerful or wealthy didn’t do something. That by itself eliminated most of the older Trainers Slate had encountered, including the Rangers. None of them would use their personal pull or wealth in such a manner when they could be caring for their Pokémon.
That really only left two people. “So who was it? Gym Leader Giovanni or Gym Leader Flint?”
Maggie’s eye twitching was all he needed to know. “How did you get into contact with him?” Slate asked.
“Slate, I’m not sure this is something to talk about…”
“It is because this accelerates my plan by years, mom.” Slate hoped she noticed his use of family title. Judging by the slight movement in her shoulders as she untensed, Maggie did. “He did something that removed nearly three years from my planned Journey and I want to know why. What did Gym Leader Giovanni ask for?”
Maggie sighed and looked off screen for a long moment as she collected her thoughts. Slate waited patiently but inside his stomach twisted over itself. What had Maggie traded to help Slate? Why was she so reluctant to name it? Why had she done it in the first place?
Finally, she spoke. “Slate. You somehow caught the attention of a very powerful man. For a moment, forget about his position as Gym Leader, forget his team of Pokémon that helped him stand as an Elite Four member who was only defeated because Professor Oak told him to surrender. He’s a wealthy philanthropist whose donations and projects had revitalized huge swaths of Kanto after the war.
“There’s not a single city, or Pokémon Center, that hasn’t directly benefited from his interest in Kanto. He’s done a lot of good in the world but the rumors,” Maggie trailed off.
“The rumors?” Slate prompted when it became clear Maggie wasn’t going to continue.
“Nothing has ever been proven. Kanto has always had a strong isolationist outlook on the world, Giovanni openly supporting such a stance only encouraged it. But there are plenty of rumors that too many of his political enemies, both here and abroad, fall mysteriously ill or withdraw from the public eye. If Giovanni were to declare himself king or prime minister or whatever tomorrow, half of Kanto would follow him if it meant separating from Johto and the rest of the world. It would mean war.”
Slate felt a chill down his spine. He could recognize the skill and power it took for someone to reach Gym Leader Giovanni’s position in life but from how Maggie spoke, Slate seriously underestimated the scope of Giovanni’s vision. Isolationist or not, Giovanni was a man with his eyes on the world.
“So why doesn’t he? Half of a nation is still half of a nation. The other half would probably fall in line out of fear, respect, or honor. What’s really stopping him from doing as you said?” Slate asked.
“The obvious answer is Professor Oak. Champion Lance never defeated him, the Professor abdicated his position in order to pursue research. However, his Pokémon are widely recognized globally as exceptionally powerful. If Giovanni wanted to succeed he would have to overcome the Professor because they are on polar opposites of the political spectrum.”
Maggie frowned, a tiny little thing that still caught Slate’s eye. “The less obvious answer is why should he bother? He’s wealthy, he’s powerful. The Pokémon League may be in charge but if they want to do anything in Kanto they need to make sure it doesn’t upset the locals who are still furious with how they were treated after the war ended. If Giovanni wants to do anything, there is nothing they could reasonably do to stop him. He’s untouchable.”
Slate swallowed. “Which takes us back to the original topic. What did you promise him?”
She shook her head. “It was a trade. For his assistance he wanted two things. The first was that he wanted an hour with me where we discussed you and only you. He wanted to know what kind of man you are, how set you are on your plan, the situation with your Starter, and how you survived the wilderness as a child.”
Slate briefly considered being angry. The invasion of privacy was an insult, from Giovanni and Maggie, but he forced himself to consider the tradeoff. Three years shaved off of his plan, his Journey, to focus on his true goal in exchange for what seems to be every detail of his life to date. But that was only one thing. “And the second?”
Maggie twisted her hands twice before forcing them still on her lap. That more than anything shocked Slate as it was a nervous tick that he rarely saw her succumb to. His unshakeable mother, anxious over telling him what she already sold.
“He wants a one-on-one meeting with you after you finish the Gym Circuit, followed by a brunch with some of his colleagues.”
“What?”
Slate had expected many things that might have been demanded of him. A tribute toward the Gym Leader of some sort, trading him one of Slate’s Pokémon. Some sort of favor to be paid at a later date, his mind immediately leaping to something medical related as that was where Giovanni was assisting him. He was not expecting brunch.
He slowly began to speak. “That’s not bad? It doesn’t sound bad. It sounds like networking to be honest. Why does that make you anxious, this seems like it would be a good thing for me?”
“That’s why I’m anxious. It’s too good to be true. I’m worried you’re going to get sucked into something you can’t handle, or worse something illegal. I did not raise you just to see you get thrown in jail for the rest of your life.”
Slate considered what Maggie really traded the Gym Leader. Second hand accounts from an incident nearly a decade ago. Probably lots of mentions of how many books he “borrowed” from the inhabitants of the Pokémon Center, and his fierce battle with Wendy, the resident bibliophile, to keep them. An outline of his plan which he had already shared with the Gym Leader as it wasn’t as though Slate considered it a secret. And the mystery of his Starter that not even Maggie knew.
“That was,” he paused to consider it once more, “a surprisingly good trade from you.”
That seemed to surprise Maggie. “You’re not mad?”
“At you? Not really. Irritated this was done without us speaking about it first but considering the outcome, it ended the best way possible. I am suspicious of Giovanni though.”
Maggie nodded. “You are exceptional but it is odd for a Gym Leader like Giovanni to display an interest in you like this. It’s why I’m so worried about that meeting, I think that’s where the real trap will be.”
Slate nodded. “I don’t think I’ll know what it is until it’s sprung. Damn. Was that everything about your talk with him?”
“Yes. He had an Alakazam Teleport him right into and out of our Pokémon Center which annoyed our security something fierce.”
“Benny and Manny were ranting for hours weren’t they?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe. It didn’t help when one of the Skarmory we’re healing got upset with the noise and began to eat their hammers.”
“Oh, I bet that reeked.”
“You have no idea.”
As Slate and Maggie talked the afternoon away he began to plan and plot of ways to deal with his problems. He wasn't poor, not by Trainer standards, but he would need far more money to effectively train and care for his Pokémon. He would need a place to keep his Pokémon safely, where they could rest and recuperate without issue. And he would need a way to maintain that safety, resources of manpower, or something to that effect.
Many Trainers would balk at these costs. They would train their Pokémon, push them to their limit for the first year of Training, but release their companions over time as they become unable to care for them. They would decry the broken bonds, the shattered hearts, the tearful goodbyes. But Slate wouldn't.
He survived the wilds of Mt. Silver as a boy. He would survive the world of Pokémon as a man.
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Time Tracker:
Days passed in Chapter: 3
Total Days: 56
Trainer Card:
Name: Slate
Occupation: Trainer, Healer, Trainee Joy, Field Healer
Ambitions:
* To find his long lost Starter
* To become a Generalist Master, a Master of all Types
Badges: Boulder(II)
Trophies: Inter-Regional Rookie Tournament Qualifier (3rd)
Carry Limit: 4/7
Key items: Lucky Pebble, Aron’s Rock
Pokémon: 4
Name: Scyther (F)
Type: Bug/Flying
Potential Moves: Counter, Fury Cutter, Air Slash, Focus Energy, Silver Wind
Core Moves: Rest, Swift
Name: Alolan Vulpix (F)
Type: Ice
Potential Moves: Moonblast, Ice Shard, Confuse Ray, Draining Kiss, Icy Wind
Core Moves: Swift, Rest
Name: Aron (M)
Type: Steel/Rock
Potential Moves: Dragon Rush, Iron Defense, Rock Polish, Heavy Slam
Core Moves: Rest
Name: Chansey (F) (Non-Combatant)
Type: Normal
Potential Moves: ?
Core Moves: Rest