Kanto Wilderness I - A Tragedy
Slate admired his Pokémon as they walked together down Route 3, the Route that connected Pewter City to the Western Mt. Moon Pokémon Center. Scyther, once bruised and battered, walked tall and proud, confidence oozing from every part of her. It was well-earned as her triumph in the Pewter Gym helped move them forward. And by Slate’s side his newest Pokémon walked, the one he won.
Well known throughout the world, and doubly so in Kanto, Vulpix were beautiful Pokémon prized for their grace and skill. But while most of the world knew Vulpix as a Fire-type, the Alola Region’s unique geography meant their Vulpix developed along a different path. Alolan Vulpix were Ice-types and that was the variant Slate had won.
And he was extremely pleased with it.
The Pokéenergy Mapping that came along with Vulpix was worth almost as much to Slate as the Pokémon herself was. Especially with how it broke down the moves she could and had learned.
Years ago, wise and learned humans realized that even if two Pokémon were from the same clutch, in the same location, and under the same circumstances, there was no guarantee they would have the same moves. Moves, or ways for Pokémon to manipulate, absorb, and expel Pokéenergy, varied among the known Pokémon Types and some could not be taught to certain kinds of Pokémon. Study of these Moves allowed the early humans to develop the Type System.
In the Type System, a Pokémon’s Type depended on their species and the environment they were born into. Vulpix in the Alola Region developed into an empty environmental niche that was unclaimed by other Pokémon at the time. This allowed those Vulpixs who adapted to thrive, slowly turning them from Fire-types to Ice-types over generations. Even with the presence of other Ice-types, Vulpix and its evolution Ninetails, established and maintained their spot in the ecosystem, cementing their status as a Regional Variant.
In general, Pokémon would have two primary Typings that most of their moves revolve around, with much smaller secondary Typings that some moves may rely on. Most Pokémon would be able to learn the moves of their primary Typings with effort and time, sometimes just requiring evolution to instinctively grasp it. However, they could also learn moves that required Pokéenergy from secondary Typings although this took far longer and often required them to be exposed to that Pokéenergy from another Pokémon.
While determining a Pokémon’s primary Typings was as simple as checking their species and Region of origin, determining their secondary Typings was a much more difficult task. It was generally a time intensive task as Trainers and their Pokémon explored their full capabilities. This could be further complicated by the fact that all Normal-types and some other Pokémon could have an overwhelming amount of secondary Typings, giving them a broader potential move pool. Hence, Pokéenergy Mapping was often worth a Pokémon’s weight in gold.
The moves a Pokémon could learn were broken into two categories. The first were the Potential Moves. Every Pokémon had ten moves they could learn that stemmed from their primary and secondary Typings. While randomized, understanding where they were born, their lineage, and how they fought could help a Trainer narrow a Pokémon’s Potential Moves down. One of these Potential Moves was also often known as the Egg Move, as it would be a move inherited from their parents.
While there have been efforts to quantify how these ten moves were chosen all have failed. Breeders and Researchers have tried for decades, and still do to this day, to try and answer the question of how a Pokémon’s Potential Moves are chosen.
The second category of moves a Pokémon could learn were known as the Core Moves. These were eight moves that all Pokémon could learn, regardless of their Type. However, they had a tradeoff of being very Pokéenergy and focus intensive to use, meaning most Pokémon could only use them once per battle. In addition, very few Pokémon learned how to use them naturally, requiring them to work with a Pokémon who already knew the moves in order for them to learn the moves themselves.
The Core Moves were broken down into four categories of two moves each. Recovery Core Moves were Rest and Recover, with most Pokémon knowing the first one since birth. Survival Core Moves were Endure and Substitute while Defensive Core Moves were Detect and Protect. The final category were the Offensive Core Moves Swift and Hyper Beam, which dealt typeless damage.
It was theorized that Pokémon could learn eighteen total moves to match the number of known Types but this was dismissed as coincidence due to the discovery and classification of Dark, Steel, and Fairy-types. Another theory dismissed as coincidence noted the eight Core Moves matching the eight Badges needed to enter Regional League Tournaments.
Vulpix’s Pokéenergy Mapping revealed to Slate all of the moves she could eventually learn, as well the type of Pokéenergy they were based on. The innate Fairy-type Pokéenergy was not a surprise to him, nor the Psychic-type, but he was surprised she already knew Confuse Ray, which required Ghost-type Pokéenergy and Swift, which required tutelage from another Pokémon.
“Looks like you’re going to be a solid Ice-type, Vulpix,” Slate told her. She barked up at him before glancing around the Route they were on curiously. “Most of these are Ice-type moves but we’ll have to figure out the best way for you to learn them.”
Vulpix barked again while Scyther shuffled beside him, causing Slate to turn to her. “We’ll work on your moves too, Scyther. I have a few ideas that we can try that might help in the next battle.”
Scyther chittered before turning her gaze back to the route. Slate sighed in bliss as they walked. Route 3 was beautiful, framed on either side by the hills of Mt. Moon. Due to a heavy Ranger presence around the Route, it was considered safe to walk without joining a Caravan, although Slate had come across signs of their passage on the road beneath his feet. Still, he did not mind the solitude.
The press of the city was uncomfortable to him, especially after spending the past few years on the edge of the wilderness with Maggie. This hike was almost like returning home, he thought fondly.
The bushes to his left rustled. Slate and his Pokémon paused, with Scyther taking a step forward with her scythes at the ready. But the rustling stopped and a moment later Slate returned to his hike, his Pokémon quickly following.
They had barely taken a dozen steps when the bushes rustled again, this time on Slate’s right. Vulpix leaped forward, growling in warning as her ears and nose twitched. The rustling stopped and after a long moment she barked once, as if to say there were no enemies. They continued on.
Wary now, Slate’s hand rested on his knife. They hiked for five minutes before he heard the rustling again, this time from behind them. He turned around, pulling his knife free, just in time to see a small white fist colliding with his face before he could react. Slate stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet, and landing in a heap on the ground. As he pushed himself upright, a weight suddenly added itself to his back before vanishing, taking his backpack with it.
Slate stood just in time to see Vulpix take off into the bushes in pursuit. Scyther rose into the air with a gesture and they both followed the Ice-type as it pursued the bandit. Slate stumbled through the trees and bushes as they moved off of Route 3 but listened to the sounds of Vulpix up ahead, even as he lost sight of her.
He heard an excited bark from up ahead. He pushed around a tree just in time to see Vulpix wagging her tail at him before moving into a clearing. Breathing heavily, Slate followed her.
A small clearing was before him, with a quiet river on the far side. Trees were felled all around it, great clumps of dirt torn up, and here and there lay the still forms of many Pokémon. And there, to the other side lay a destroyed tent with their fallen Trainer.
Slate approached cautiously Vulpix as she stood in an empty spot, sniffing the air cautiously. Scyther landed beside them. “Did you see anyone else?” Slate asked Scyther. She shook her head.
“Patrol around the clearing in case whoever did this is still nearby,” Slate ordered. Scyther quickly took to the air.
Movement by the destroyed tent caught Slate’s eye. He could see a small Ralts digging through Slate’s backpack, tossing his belongings aside without a care. It found his first aid kit and desperately opened it, pulling out and pressing every item it could lift to its Trainer’s still form. Wails and cries left its throat as nothing helped.
Slate and Vulpix slowly approached. “Let me help,” Slate whispered. Ralts startled and turned its tear stained face toward him, moving to stand between Slate and its Trainer. Slate lowered himself to the ground, trying to appear non-threatening.
“Please, let me try to help,” Slate whispered. Beside him Vulpix barked in a soft way as if to reassure Ralts.
Ralts didn’t move away as Slate approached, merely turning to keep him in sight as he approached the fallen Trainer’s side. It was a young woman, possibly a year or two older than him, and he quickly checked her vitals.
Cold, still flesh greeted him.
He leaned in closer, the smell of death filling the air. Her blood soaked shirt gave a clue and Slate pulled it down slightly to confirm his thoughts. There, just over where her heart would be, was a jagged wound. Something had pierced her heart.
“There's nothing that can be done,” Slate said quietly. Ralts looked at him in confusion as he pulled an emergency blanket from his kit. He opened it, spreading it gently over the fallen Trainer's body.
Ralts understood that. Great wails of pain and loss left its throat and Vulpix moved forward to comfort crying Ralts. Scyther landed nearby but held back to not crowd the mourning Pokémon.
Remembering what Ranger Holly told him to do if he was in trouble, he made a fire with plants that would cause a great deal of smoke. But as he sat down to wait, a small glint of metal caught Slate’s eye. A broken pin lay on the ground beside the Trainer, gleaming red in the shape of the letter R. Slate picked it up and ran his fingers over it in thought as they waited for help to arrive.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
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Hours passed and Slate tended to the fire. Despite wishing he could move the bodies he knew he could not, lest he tamper with some indication of what had caused this. Instead he sat, surrounded by death, while Vulpix wrapped herself around Ralts and Scyther stood protectively over them both.
Wings moving through the air were finally heard and Slate looked up to see a Trainer approaching on the back of a Charizard. It landed, causing the ground to shake. A tall man leaped from its back, his sharp eyes taking in the destroyed campground.
“Arceus, what happened here? I’m Ranger Trevor and I need you to tell me what happened right now!”
Slate gave him a weary shrug. “I don't know. The camp was like this when we got here. Including her,” Slate said, gesturing to the emergency blanket. Ranger Trevor's eyes hardened.
Before he could blink, Slate was frozen in place. “Are they the culprit, Kadabra?” the Ranger asked. The Psychic-type appeared with a soft pop and focused as it stared intently into Slate's eyes.
A sensation uncomfortably like vertigo passed before Slate could move his body once more. Scyther shrieked in displeasure and lowered herself to charge while Kadabra was returned to its Poké Ball.
“Peace, Trainer,” Ranger Trevor said. “I just needed to make sure you weren't the cause of this incident.”
Reluctantly Slate could understand the Ranger's reasoning, even if it was disagreeable. “Stand down, Scyther,” he ordered. Scyther grumbled but obeyed. Vulpix and Ralts watched with wary eyes.
Ranger Trevor approached the fallen Trainer and quickly investigated her. “Roughly two days old, when did you find her?”
“Today,” Slate answered. The Ranger nodded.
“Right, what's your name kid? And city of origin?” he asked, standing up and pulling out his Pokédex.
“Trainer Slate, my Sponsor is Nurse Joy Maggie of the Mt. Silver Pokémon Center Echo,” Slate said. Something kept catching Slate’s eye on the Ranger’s jacket but he wasn’t certain what. He tried to look unobtrusively.
The Ranger was too busy writing down Slate’s reply to notice. He then crouched down next to the fallen Trainer and gently went through her pockets, standing up with her bloodied Trainer ID in his hands.
“Trainer Lauren Howards of Saffron City,” the Ranger read off of the ID. His eyes darted around the clearing. “Five Pokémon deceased. Most of them look strong too. Probably at least a five or six Badge Trainer. That’s a damn shame.”
Slate realized what was bothering him about the Ranger’s jacket. On the lapel a small pin could be seen with a jagged edge. An edge that he could feel cutting into his palm, squeezing it so tightly it was almost cutting his skin. He forced his fingers to unclench.
“What do you think happened?” Slate instead asked. “It doesn’t look like anything was taken.”
Ranger Trevor shrugged. “Maybe she made an enemy. Maybe someone was having a rotten day and took it out on her. Maybe it was just bad luck. I don’t think we’ll ever find out.”
The Ranger’s lips twitched slightly when he spoke the list of possibilities, revealing the truth to be all of them. He bent down and began to break Trainer Lauren’s Poké Balls one by one. “Why are you doing that?” Slate asked.
Ranger Trevor glanced up. “This? Standard procedure. Officially it’s to check for contraband hidden inside the Poké Balls. Unofficially it was done as a sign of respect to the fallen, a symbol really, of releasing them to the after life. We can’t do much for them out here in the wild but we can do that.”
Ranger Trevor stood up and nodded his head at Slate. “You good, kid? You’re looking a little pale.”
Slate’s eyes traced the man’s jacket, picking out the knives and Poké Balls stored within. Then he jerked his chin in Ranger Trevor’s direction. “I’m good. I think I saw something fall from your jacket though.”
Ranger Trevor didn’t move his hands to the knives or Poké Balls in his jacket at first. Instead it patted another pocket, as if ensuring something else was secure before checking the remainder.
“Something fell? I don’t think I’m missing anything,” Ranger Trevor said.
Slate pointed to the ground behind the Ranger, closer to Trainer Lauren. “Yeah, I see it from here. It’s the metal thing.”
Slate approached and knelt, his hand reaching for a clump of grass. But his eyes tracked to the side, peering into the gap Ranger Trevor had in his jacket. Slate almost froze in shock at what he saw but forced himself to continue.
“Here, I think this fell off your jacket,” Slate said, rising to his feet and handing the Ranger the missing part of his pin. Ranger Trevor blinked in surprise.
“I didn’t even realize this was broken!” he said, futilely trying to reconnect it. He pulled off the second piece with a sigh and held them in his hands. “That’s a damn shame.”
“What is it?” Slate asked. Ranger Trevor gave him an odd half-smile.
“It used to be a membership pin. I spent a few years with them before moving on to the Rangers. I made some good friends but fell out of touch with most of them. It’s a damn shame it broke, I don’t think I can replace it.”
“Membership?” Slate asked. The Ranger laughed.
“Yeah but enough about that. I’ve got a job to do. If you don’t need anything you should get a move on and make camp elsewhere. You should be able to reach the Pokémon Center tomorrow.”
Slate nodded in agreement and Ranger Trevor turned to his watching Charizard and began directing it to dig shallow graves. Slate quickly knelt next to Ralts and Vulpix.
“Ralts, I’m sorry you lost your Trainer but I can’t do anything to fix that. I wish I could but I can’t. What I can do is take you to Saffron City so you can be with your Trainer’s family. Would you like that?” Slate asked.
Ralts looked at him, with wide, almost shell-shocked eyes, before giving him a tiny nod. Vulpix nudged it with her nose, gently pushing it toward the fallen Trainer. Ralts reluctantly turned, tears falling freely on the Trainer’s face.
But no life returned. No movement happened. The dead stayed dead and slowly, reluctantly, Ralts backed away from its former Trainer.
As Slate led the Pokémon away, his thoughts drifted back to the object in the Ranger’s jacket. And he pondered the purpose of a black Pokédex with odd attachments on it.
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It was just past noon the next day when Slate entered the Western Mt. Moon Pokémon Center. He was dirty, tired, and matched almost every other Trainer in the Pokémon Center. As he stepped up to speak to Nurse Joy, she didn’t even blink at the dirt he tracked in.
“I’d like a check up for my Pokémon please,” Slate explained, handing over the Poké Balls for Scyther and Vulpix. He then helped Ralts up onto the counter. “Also this Ralts isn’t mine but would you mind checking up on her? She’ll be traveling with me for a while.”
The first true glimmer of emotion dawned on Nurse Joy’s face as she took Ralts gently into her arms. “Oh, you poor thing. We’re going to get you cleaned up and get you some tea! How does that sound?”
As Nurse Joy disappeared with Slate’s Pokémon and Ralts in her arms, Slate stretched before setting off for the cafeteria. A nice warm meal was exactly what he needed right now and he intended to eat before finding a free bed to crash in. He would see about joining a Caravan in the morning.
A few minutes later he had just sat down to eat when his attention was snagged. “...so we go through the mountain.” And just like that, Slate’s interest in joining a Caravan vanished.
Slate looked at the next table and saw a group of Trainers talking and pointing at a map of Kanto. The speaker was a young woman with short hair, and she was tapping the map with the tip of a knife. A young man across from her shook his head.
“I heard a rumor that the caves aren’t safe,” he said. Another one of the Trainers scoffed.
“From the same people that told you Elite Four Agatha is actually a Gengar in disguise?”
“Or the ones that said our Pokémon get cloned every time we heal them at a Pokémon Center and they recycle the originals into Poké Chow?”
“I’m still a fan of the one claiming Professor Oak is actually a Pokémon who is secretly running the world. Especially since you kept insisting the Legendary Birds were just painted Pidgeots.”
“Oh and the Legendary Beasts are just eeveelutions that haven’t been discovered yet.”
“I forgot about that.”
Even as the table laughed at the young man but he seemed to accept their ribbing with no ill intentions. “I’m just saying it feels like a big risk.”
Slate dragged a chair up to their table. “Of course it’s a big risk. There are powerful Pokémon in there and they don’t take kindly to intruders. You guys are thinking about going through the caves?” he asked.
“Look at the Voltorbs on this one,” one of the Trainers muttered. His twin snickered from beside him. Slate ignored them.
“We are. I found a Ranger who’s willing to guide us if we help him patrol the caves. But only our group, not Trainers on their lonesome,” the young woman said as she leaned back in her seat, her knife tapping her knee.
Slate held her gaze without flinching. “I doubt he’d turn down an extra pair of hands. Or Pokémon. After all, there’s safety in numbers,” he countered.
The Trainer’s lips twisted slightly before smoothing. Instead of acknowledging Slate’s point, she shifted tactics. “I bet you came from Pewter. Do you even have a Badge? We’re not babysitters, we’re Trainers with a goal.”
Instead of replying, Slate opened his jacket and placed his Boulder Badge on the map between them, covering Mt. Moon with the shiny metal.
“Whoop-de-do, he has one Badge,” one of the Trainers began to say but their neighbor cut him off with a sharp elbow to the side.
“Look at the border, idiot. He did a Challenger run and won.”
“What’s the big deal? A Badge is a Badge,” the first Trainer said, rubbing his side.
The group’s leader was the one who answered. “It means he fought his way through multiple Gym Trainers before facing and beating the Gym Leader. Even for the first Gym on a circuit, that’s not half-bad.”
“So what’s your answer?” Slate asked as he reclaimed his Badge.
“Betsy, I think we should take him,” another young woman said. Betsy, the apparent leader of their group, shot her a dark look that made her snap her mouth shut.
“Quiet, Eleanor.” Betsy turned back to Slate. “If you get injured or one of your Pokémon dies, it’s on you. You understand?”
Slate nodded. “I understand.”
Betsy sighed. “Then have your kit ready by dawn. We leave at first light.”
Even as the other Trainers clapped and whooped, Slate leaned back in his seat, satisfied. But even as he joined in the conversations around him, making new friends, his thoughts were elsewhere.
Specifically, they were on the signpost outside the Pokémon Center, where someone or something had carved a curious symbol into the wood. A symbol Slate knew well.
After all, Slate and his Starter had ways of finding one another when they were separated.
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Time Tracker:
Days passed in Chapter: 2
Total Days: 31
Trainer Card:
Name: Slate
Occupation: Trainer
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: 2/4
Key items: Walking Stick
Pokémon: 2
Name: Scyther (F)
Type: Bug/Flying
Potential Moves: Counter, Fury Cutter, Air Slash, Focus Energy
Core Moves: Rest
Name: Alolan Vulpix (F)
Type: Ice
Potential Moves: Moonblast, Ice Shard, Confuse Ray
Core Moves: Swift, Rest