Kanto Wilderness VI – The Real World

Slate breathed in the fresh air and sighed in relief. He had left Vermilion City behind five days ago, striking out North-east along the coastline to reach Celadon City for his next Gym challenge. But as the city disappeared beyond forests and hills, Slate found his pace slowing down to enjoy the solitude the wilderness provided.

It was sorely needed..

Each of his Pokémon walked free of their Poké Balls. They would play as they walked, unbothered by the Wild Pokémon or wilderness around them, using their moves on one another and their surroundings to their heart's content. Slate could not hide his joy from his Pokémon even if he felt inclined to. He needed this. They needed this.

Even Flaaffy walked with vigor in his steps. The day Slate left Vermilion he released his Pokémon so they could acclimate themselves to Flaaffy's new form. Slate's Pokémon had greeted and congratulated the Electric-type on his evolution in their own ways but Scyther had gently tapped Flaaffy's leg with her scythe. There lay unmarked skin where previously a long, thin scar had laid, courtesy of Scyther.

The Pokémon were silently watching Flaaffy as he stared at his bare skin with an incomprehensible look in his eye. He finally looked up at Scyther and communicated something with a short string of bleats. Scyther nodded and raised one of her scythes.

Realizing what the Bug-type intended to do, Slate quickly put a stop to it. Flaaffy's wool began to spark as he channeled his frustration into electricity.

“We do not mutilate one another,” Slate had said firmly. “Your scar served a purpose, yes, but do you forget its message even though it's gone? You do not. You will gather other scars, Flaaffy, of that I have no doubt. But if Scyther injured you now it would not have the same meaning behind it as the previous one.”

Slate wasn't sure how much of his message got through Flaaffy's head as every once in while he could see the aggressive Pokémon eyeing Scyther's scythes meaningfully. Fortunately, Scyther wasn't as impulsive and obeyed Slate's order.

On the subject of evolution, Slate wasn't surprised that Flaaffy evolved first. The only other one who was close was Aron, who Slate had found eating metallic trash cans in Vermilion City, a sign that his evolution was fast approaching. The rest of his Pokémon were content with their current forms and slowly growing strength, although Slate knew that eventually they'd begin to push themselves harder to become more.

For the second day Slate toyed with the idea of humans evolving like Pokémon. Perhaps a human's next form would have multiple arms, like a Machamp or larger brains, like an Alakazam. As amusing as the thought was, he banished it from his mind for the rest of his time in the wilderness, choosing instead to work on his Pokémon, and himself.

Slate had a small window of time to ‘borrow’ the printer in Pokémon Center, much to Nurse Joy’s ire. He accessed the network that connected each Pokémon Center, where Pokémon could be transferred, research could be read, and access to libraries all over the world could be shared. The last was a feature that Slate was finally able to take proper advantage of thanks to his Healer credentials.

While a Pokédex could have held all of the reading materials Slate could ever want, the lack of space in his backpack meant he had to satisfy himself with printing out a handful of articles. Fortunately, it seemed as though Professor Oak, the preeminent Pokémon Professor, had published several new research papers that Slate hadn’t had the chance to read. He quickly printed the few that caught his eye before Nurse Joy had chased him away.

It was difficult to walk and read but Slate managed. Chansey took it upon herself to keep her Trainer from walking into too many trees but the wilderness was thick. Eventually he had to wait until they stopped for breaks and camp to read, devouring every word Professor Oak had written. Two papers stood out, detailing studies he had recently finished conducting.

In the first paper Professor Oak examined the legitimacy of Type-effectiveness and Type-weaknesses as they were currently known. Some Pokémon were able to learn moves that should have damaged the Pokémon using them yet somehow didn’t. Rhydon's in particular were noted with their weakness to water, as the species were natural swimmers and preferred to spend time in shallow rivers. Professor Oak reasoned that a Pokémon’s Pokéenergy impacted this somehow, theorizing that to inflict damage on a Pokémon with a specific type of attack, it had to be infused with their Pokéenergy. The rest of the paper descended into some sort of cross examination that Slate couldn’t understand but did refer him to another paper.

In that work Professor Oak analyzed the Charmander evolutionary line. Each was exposed to a weak Water Gun, specifically restricted to do the least amount of damage to the Fire-types. The Pokémon, the attack, and the surrounding air were all monitored closely for data. And what data they collected.

On Charmander, the Water Gun hit as it expected to, with a large amount of damage despite its naturally tough skin. Through scanners Oak could see how the Pokéenergy within Charmander was disrupted by the water-based attack. It took the Charmander several moments to physically recover but much longer for its Pokéenergy to do so as it slowly recuperated itself.

As a control, Oak waited until the Charmander had fully recovered before spraying it lightly with a hose. It experienced a similar reaction to the Water Gun attack but to a noticeably more mild degree. The Charmander recovered slightly faster from this attack than the Water Gun, in a matter of seconds.

To confirm his research, Oak had Charmander tank another Water Gun attack of the same strength as the first one. To his astonishment the Charmander didn't suffer as much Pokéenergy disruption as previously and recovered faster.

With this new information, Oak alternated testing the Charmander with Water Guns and sprays from the hose, giving the Charmander time to recover between each attack. After several dozen alternating attacks, the Charmander was able to entirely ignore the spray from the hose, although it did spit an Ember at Professor Oak due to its frustration.

Oak instead focused on using blasts of Water Gun, alternating between stronger and weaker blasts. He could track how Charmander's Pokéenergy recovered faster and faster, and after several days of training the Charmander in this way, the Fire-type could safely ignore the power of a moderate strength Water Gun with ease. Oak theorized that he could eventually train the Fire-type to be completely immune to the internal Pokéenergy disruption although other methods would have to be developed to protect Charmander's physical body from damage.

The Pokémon Professor had confirmed his findings with a Charmeleon and Charizard, although he found that evolution gave the Fire-types additional physical strengths to protect them further. This allowed Oak to safely push the two Fire-types further than the unevolved Charmander, and even utilize Hydro Pumps on the Charizard to really push the Fire-type further. He only halted his examination of this phenomenon when Charizard slagged one of his machines with a Fire Blast.

Oak wrapped up his paper by stating that this information should be carefully disseminated to the general public as they didn't want to encourage cases of Pokémon abuse if a Rookie Trainer thought they could make their Charmander immune to water by throwing it into the ocean.

Slate liked to think he was a little more intelligent than that.

Which was why at the end of every day Slate started to pair up his Pokémon to face off against one another. These two would spar in front of the others, each doing their best to wear the other one down as much as possible while the others watched and learned how they fought. And once they were both worn out, Chansey would heal them both, and they would be replaced by two new Pokémon who would then do the same.

If Slate didn't have a Chansey, he wouldn't have dared to do this training method. However because he had access to her remarkable healing powers, and specifically the Heal Pulse that helped restore disrupted Pokéenergy in addition to healing physical injuries, he could push his Pokémon further than a normal Trainer. And pushed them he did.

Slate knew the foes they faced would be stronger, faster, and even smarter than they were. They would most likely have years of experience battling, they would know their Pokémon's strengths and weaknesses inside and out. Slate and his Pokémon had a lot of catching up to do.

Mornings and early afternoons were for relaxing because of this. His Pokémon could explore, they could play with one another, they could even do nothing if they chose but it would be done as a team. They would trust one another, learn to work with one another, because one day they might be in a situation where they'll hold each other's lives in their hands.

They would settle down to camp once the sun began to touch the tops of trees. They would establish their camp, catch some food, and once it was eaten Slate would address his Pokémon before having them battle.

Sometimes it was observations from the previous day, letting Vulpix know she flourished her tail before she cast Ice Shard and to beware smart opponents recognizing this. Sometimes he would offer a suggestion to a Pokémon, such as trying to convince Flaaffy to not leap face first into a fight. And sometimes he'd give his Pokémon restrictions.

Once he had Flaaffy and Machop battle one another only using punches. Flaaffy won their first bout despite Machop's natural strengths as Machop lacked the ruthless edge Flaaffy embraced. Slate instead told her to focus on tiring her foe out, letting them expend all of their energy before striking. The second bout went to Machop who beamed at Slate in gratitude.

Despite only doing this routine for a few days, Slate already felt a world of difference in how his Pokémon fought. He wondered where he and his Pokémon would be in a week, a month, a year. A lifetime.

Another day, another sunset, another camp. His Pokémon had found a small river that led toward what Slate knew to be the ocean and Slate had agreed to the location. His Pokémon had the actions of building a camp down to a science now, each pitching in where they were able.

Scyther and Machop would venture into the nearby forest, looking for logs and other dead wood to cut up and carry back for the fire. Flaaffy, eager to use his ever strengthening Electric-type moves, would dip a toe into the nearby river, killing a few Wild Pokémon for them to eat. Vulpic would help him by diving into the water, gathering the food before it drifted too far away. She only had to warn him twice when he attempted to shock her, an act that left Flaaffy coated in ice the first time and Frozen the second.

Aron would use his rapidly growing strength to pull rocks from the earth. The small ones would be placed in a circle for a fire, while the larger ones were dragged into rough stone barricades around the camp for protection. Slate would never tell Aron the ankle high barricades would be more a hindrance to them than any intruders.

Chansey would help Slate with pitching his tent, raising the tarp and ropes and tying them with stubby fingers. He didn’t truly need the help, and it often slowed him down, but he enjoyed the time he was able to spend with Chansey. It reminded him of when she was a Happiny, following him around the Pokémon Center on Maggie’s orders.

That night as they rested around the fire after training, a truly remarkable thing occurred. Slate’s eyes were focused on the flames before him but to the side he could see Aron digging through a pile of rocks he had collected. Aron warbled to himself as he pushed them around, squishing them against one another as best as he could. After several long minutes, Aron backed up, seemingly satisfied with his small mound of rocks.

The firelight reflected off of something in the rocks, catching Slate’s eye and causing him to give his full attention to Aron. “What are you doing, Aron?” he asked.

Now focused on the tiny Steel-type, Slate could see Aron's eyes suddenly narrow in intense concentration. His little body glowed brighter with Iron Defense and he warbled as he charged toward the pile of rocks. Purple fire bled off of him, raising the nearby temperature as Aron used Dragon Rush to move even faster. Aron collided with the pile of rocks, raising an unholy screech of metal against metal that turned into a grinding noise.. The light intensified once more, blinding Slate and forcing him to look away to protect his vision. A bellow echoed through the campsite.

When Slate's vision cleared he was treated to the sight of a Lairon panting in front of him, its whole body vibrating in excitement. The pile of rocks was ground into dust, each broken open for the raw ore inside to be claimed. Lairon had only a few moments to work with the metal, turning it softer with the heat of Dragon Rush before molding it to his liking to make a rough armor. Slate grinned and stepped forward to congratulate his Pokémon when a stick broke in the nearby forest. Slate whirled about.

There, standing sheepishly, was Ranger Holly. She awkwardly waved. “Hey, Slate. Fancy meeting you here.”

Slate's eyes narrowed.

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The campsite was quiet save for the soft crackle of fire. Slate turned a wooden spit, slowly rotating a Goldeen so it was evenly cooked. His Pokémon were off to the side, watching Ranger Holly with wary eyes, their meal already done.

“That smells delicious,” Ranger Holly said. Slate's eyes didn't move from the fire. “I don't suppose you'd be willing to share a bite?”

“The river's right there,” Slate said. Holly frowned but he didn't see.

“I saw the light of your Aron's evolution. Congrats!”

Slate said nothing and Holly twisted her hands restlessly.

“Slate, I'm sorry,” she said. Slate didn't respond. “Would you please look at me?”

Slate did so, fixing piercing, dark eyes on Holly. “What do you need, Ranger?” he asked formally.

This time when Holly frowned Slate did see it. “I want to talk to you about what happened,” she tried to explain. Slate said nothing.

The silence stretched long into the night as the two humans stared at one another. Holly began to fidget. “Well?” she asked.

Irritation crossed Slate's face. “Well what? You said you wanted to talk then said nothing,” he said crossly. He pulled his dinner from the fire and blew on it to cool it slightly.

Holly gave a nervous chuckle. “Right. Well, I'm sorry I accused you of abusing your Pokémon. With your explanation for how you caught Mareep I thought the worst of you, I...” she trailed off.

Slate was almost trembling in rage. He was grinding his teeth so hard that for a moment, Slate wondered if he was going to grind them to dust. His hands clenched the wooden spit tightly causing the wood to creak noticeably. A soft, fuzzy head nudged his hand and when Slate looked down he saw Vulpix looking back up at him. He breathed in slow and deep and exhaled.

He locked hard eyes on Holly. “You should have known me better than that,” he said. He could not stop the hurt coloring his tone if he tried.

“And I'm sorry for doubting you like that. But as a Ranger it's my duty to be on the lookout for Trainers who are using their Pokémon irresponsibly. And I thought...”

Slate's eyes narrowed. “You thought I was abusing my Pokémon?”

Holly's silence was telling. For a long moment Slate stared at her, contemplating the woman across from him. And he realized he couldn't stand the sight of her.

“You're not welcome in my camp any longer,” Slate finally said. Holly winced. “Please leave.”

“I can't,” Holly whispered.

“And why not?” Slate asked.

Holly took in a deep breath before locking eyes with Slate. “Under the Ranger Conscription Act 9 I'm conscripting you for emergency service, Field Healer,” she said clearly. Slate almost snarled.

He was familiar with Ranger Conscription Act 9. Acts 1-8 detailed the possible situations in which a normal Trainer may be conscripted to fill a variety of roles, from city defense to invading another country. Act 9 on the other hand, dealt with support individuals such as Trainers who specialized in healing. Trainers like Slate who possessed not only a Chansey trained as a Healer but the personal training to act as one himself.

Legally, Slate could refuse. It would mean sacrificing everything he's done up to this point, his Pokémon being stripped from him and his Trainer's License being put up for review. But he could refuse.

But he wouldn't. Not when he still had so much he hoped to do.

“What do you need, Ranger?” Slate almost spat. Holly winced again.

“I've received a report of Pokémon Poachers in the area. I think I've tracked them down but I need you to support my Pokémon while they do the heavy lifting and take out the threats. Afterwards, I'll need you to heal both my Pokémon and any Pokémon the Poachers have illegally obtained,” Holly explained.

“What Pokémon are in the area that Poachers would want?” Slate asked, curious despite himself.

“There have been rumors of a herd of the Bulbasaur line in the area for years, not that anyone's found any. There are also packs of Growlithe which I've already confirmed to have been captured even though they're protected in this area,” Holly explained distastefully. Slate nodded.

Both Pokémon were highly sought after for very different reasons. Bulbasaurs were among the most desired Kanto Starters due to the physical sturdiness and awe invoking power of its final form, Venasaur. Growlithes, while not as sturdy, were still quite robust, and their evolved form of Arcanine was one of the fastest land Pokémon in the world. Slate had seen videos of the two Pokémon in action and had been humbled by the power on display. He could easily see why both Pokémon were being hunted.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“These Poachers have also been linked to a certain suspicious element,” Holly added once she saw Slate’s softening features. “They’ve supposedly been investigated by him and found innocent. I’m here to double check that.”

That made Slate’s eyes snap to her, focusing with a sharp intensity. She could only be speaking about Ranger Trevor, a man that Slate was deeply suspicious of considering the circumstances of their first encounter.

“When do we leave?” Slate asked, his tone not overly hostile. His issues with Holly could wait, there were Pokémon in trouble and questionable characters to investigate.

“At first light. We have a way to walk and I don't want to alert them by approaching too fast,” Holly explained.

Slate nodded and nodded to Lairon. His Pokémon thumped over to the fire before kicking his powerful legs at the dirt, extinguishing the flames. Before, as an Aron, it would take him several minutes of adjusting, but as a Lairon it only took a few swipes of his legs. As darkness fell on the campsite, Slate gave Lairon a nod, causing the Pokémon to warble happily.

As Slate wordlessly stood up and went to his tent, with his Pokémon following him, he heard Holly sigh once more.

“Goodnight, Slate.”

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It was not a very restful night's sleep. It seemed as though Slate was waking every few minutes, be it from one of his Pokémon twitching in their sleep or the faint sound of Holly's breathing on the other side of camp. When the first rays of light lit up the horizon, Slate was almost relieved to have an excuse to move.

He and his Pokémon quickly took down camp, ignoring the interloper for now. Unfortunately while Slate was having his Lairon and Machop erase many of the signs of their presence, moving rocks back into natural resting spots chief among them, Holly stirred herself awake. She stretched like a Persian before rising, greeting him cheerfully.

Slate only looked at her expectantly, causing her to rub the back of her head.

“Right. Well we'll need to go closer to the coast. That's where I've found remains of old camps anyway. I think they sail up and down the coast, using the hills here as cover for their activities,” Holly explained. Slate nodded and moved off toward the direction he knew to be the coast, with Holly following his footsteps.

The hours passed slowly. Several times Holly tried to start up a conversation again but Slate ignored her attempts. After a while she would only mumble out directions whenever they pulled too far north, always pushing them closer to the coast.

Slate heard the ocean waves long before he saw them. One moment they were walking through a dense forest on a hill when suddenly Slate saw a streak of vibrant blue through the trees. He and Holly moved forward, quickly approaching the treeline. Holly stopped Slate before he could truly cross it.

“If they're on the beach I don't want to spook them away,” she explained. She consulted a map for a moment. “The camp remains I've found are all behind us which means we should keep a lookout going this direction.”

Slate followed Holly's finger along the coast but frowned. There would be a lot of ground to cover. “Can we use our Pokémon to scout? Your Skarmory might be too flashy but Scyther should be able to blend into the forests here.”

Holly thought about it for a moment. “We can release your Scyther. I always forget it's part Flying-type.”

Slate found that statement odd considering Scyther’s wings but ignored it in favor of releasing Scyther. He quickly explained the situation to her. “Do you think you can stay hidden while you scout ahead? We need to stop these Poachers.”

Scyther nodded, crossing her scythes, before taking off. She quickly disappeared into the distance up the beach. Slate began to follow, leaving the treeline and walking on the soft sand. He released the rest of his Pokémon a moment later to walk with him.

“The Poachers might see us,” Holly said as she joined him on the sand.

Slate shook his head. “Scyther would have returned by now if they were on this section of the beach. Which means they're either out to sea where we'll also be able to see them at a distance, or further inland looking for rare Pokémon. Either way, until Scyther returns with information my Pokémon can relax and stretch their legs for the coming fight.” Holly frowned.

“You won't be fighting.” Slate glared at her but she was undeterred. “Well you won't be. You're still a new Trainer and these are very dangerous people. It would be irresponsible to let you fight them.”

“But not to come along to patch up wounds,” Slate asked. Holly pressed her lips together while she released her Kirlia. Kirlia happily trilled at Slate and despite his negative feelings toward her Trainer, Slate smiled at the Pokémon. She reminded him of Ralts and he hoped she was doing well in Saffron.

“What's the real reason I'm here,” Slate suddenly asked. Holly paused, only slightly, but enough for Slate to notice.

“What do you mean?” Holly asked, far too casually. Slate's eyes narrowed and he stopped walking to face her directly.

“If you needed backup you would have other Rangers with you. That you don't means the Poachers aren't why you need me here. So why am I here?” Slate asked. Kirlia scolded him with a soft trill but Slate barely spared her a glance.

“Slate, I don't know what you-” Holly began. Slate cut her off.

“If you lie to me one more time I will never speak to you again.”

Silence fell over the beach. Slate's Pokémon were clustered around him, protectively, eyeing Holly warily. Lairon stood directly in front of him, flanked by Flaaffy and Machop. Chansey had one tiny nub like hand on Slate's pant leg, gripped tightly while Vulpix fixed narrow eyes on Holly which began to glow. All of his Pokémon were tense, waiting for their Trainer to order them to attack.

Holly sighed. “I won't lie to you. But let's talk as we walk, the Poachers are very much real threats.”

They did so, moving slower. A minute passed in silence but Slate was no stranger to patience. Survival assured that.

“Your bond with your Pokémon is remarkable,” Holly began. “New Trainers are known for having issues in controlling some of the more destructive Pokémon, it's why they're started off with weak Starter Pokémon, to help them both grow. But your Pokémon rally to you despite the short time you've had them, you've clearly earned their respect.”

“I would kill for any of them,” Slate simply said. Holly grimmaced.

“Would you be surprised to know that is not a typical Trainer response? Most Trainers would fight for their Pokémon. A much smaller portion would die for them. But even fewer would kill for their Pokémon. It is not a popular mindset for Trainers due to how many non-lethal methods there are for dealing with Wild Pokémon.”

She sighed. “One thing Rangers are told to be on the lookout for are Trainers who are like you. Often it's because these Trainers are more likely to turn to criminal pursuits in order to further themselves in the world. Rarely it's because of a troublesome upbringing that gives the Trainers a different outlook on life.”

Holly looked at Slate. “Those Trainers are snapped up by their respective Regions quickly. They're usually conscripted into the Ace Corps and are short listed to become officers in a Region's military. Regions want them because they are Trainers who are not afraid of taking a life and their Pokémon are likewise trained to be war machines. Lt. Surge is an example of a Trainer who's been put through the Ace Corps even if he’s no longer enlisted.”

“Someone in the Kanto Ace Corps knows about your history and your Pokémon Journey so far. A tag was placed on your file to have you tested at the conclusion of your first year of training to see if you would be a good fit. Instructions were issued to have you inserted into various situations over the coming months to slowly acclimate you to accepting the dangerous situations as normal. But there are competing interests around you.”

“After Cerulean you were also flagged due to your Healing Certifications. Everyone wants and needs Healers, but multiple interests placed a watch flag on your Trainer Profile. It doesn’t help that one of them is the Pokémon League itself.”

“Technically each Region is part of the Pokémon League. It was created to promote trade and peace between the regions, allowing for them to work together in science, technology, and commerce. Whether it works as such is another debate entirely but no one can deny the Pokémon League has a lot of power and authority.”

For a moment Holly laughed. “You should have seen my Captain's face when he tried to read your file. So much of it is redacted that it might as well be solid black pages. The only thing I could even read was the details of your rescue considering I was part of it. Anyway, this isn't even touching on the Healer Certification. Did you know that you're on call whenever you visit a Pokémon Center?”

Slate nodded. “Yeah, I've already helped out but it wasn't any bother. The machines do most of the heavy lifting.”

Holly rolled her eyes. “Back to the Pokémon League. Technically it's a charity organization performing disaster relief and environmental defense. In reality it's a power unto itself. They have enough pull with each Region to make or break them through one action or another and they're largely responsible for why and how the last war ended. And they also have their own version of Ace Trainers called Enforcers.”

“To give you a frame of reference, I was good enough to reach the Top 128 Trainers in the Pokémon League Tournament I competed in eight years ago. Now I could probably hit Top 32 and I'm average for a Ranger. Ace Trainers are around the weaker end of Gym Leaders, their personal teams mind you, not the League sanctioned Pokémon they use. A lot of Ace Trainers are Specialists working on a Mastery of some sort and most have reached the Top 16 in Tournaments.”

Holly blew out a breath of air. “And then there are the League Enforcers. They're all on the level of an Elite Four member, more than a few of them have won a Pokémon Tournament at some point and some have even challenged their Region's Champion. They're that strong. But this is also a problem for you.”

Slate was confused. “How so?”

Holly raised a hand to flick him on the forehead but Slate flinched away from her. She shot him an apologetic look but continued. “Because people are interested in you! Powerful people! I don’t know who exactly but there are several powerful groups watching you right now. Rangers, Aces, Enforcers! All circling you!”

Unbidden, Slate’s thoughts drifted to Giovanni. Slate would not be surprised at all if Giovanni wasn’t one such interest although he did wonder which interest he represented.

Holly continued, shaking her head. “I've had to meet with people I've never heard of in positions I didn't even know existed over the last few weeks. But this is an issue because I've been informed I have to forward any report involving you to a bunch of different organizations, including the Enforcer Headquarters in Sinnoh.”

Holly fell silent for a moment, lost in her thoughts. Slate had too many questions running through his mind so he settled on the simplest. “Why is this noteworthy?” he asked. Holly blinked in surprise.

“Oh, because while technically the Ace Corps are subservient to the League Enforcers in times of crisis, they'll be the soldiers fighting one another should a war break out. You basically have two competing armies looking to recruit you. And different factions within those armies even when we include the Rangers,” she explained.

Slate nodded. That made a lot more sense. “So a lot of people want me for different things but none of them have talked to me at all. Except for you,” Slate said. Holly gave him a grin.

“Pretty much. It's your own fault for being so smart. If you were a dumb average Trainer like the rest of us you'd be fine. Probably tied up in a Caterpie web somewhere but fine.”

Slate almost laughed. The anger and betrayal he felt toward Holly had slowly been fading as she shared the real reason why he was here but something was niggling in the back of his mind. A few steps later he realized what it was.

“Why would all of these people be speaking to you?” Slate asked.

The small smile Holly had been wearing vanished. She sighed. “Are you sure you want to know?”

Slate's eyes narrowed. “I do.”

They walked in silence once more as Holly seemed to wrestle with some internal thought. Slate turned his attention to the waves they walked along, wondering what the other Regions were like and if he'd visit them all. If it was even possible.

“It's because you're Case 12,” Holly whispered. Slate turned to her and was shocked to see her eyes shining with tears. “And because it's my fault.”

Slate felt like someone had kicked his heart in his chest. “You know why I was in those mountains?” he asked, his heart pounding.

Holly shook herself, staring at him in surprise. “What? No! I don't know anything about that. But I was one of the Rangers at Mt. Silver Outpost D4.”

A hazy memory flew through Slate's mind. “The Rangers who rescued me were from that outpost. Wait, you just said you were part of the group that rescued me.”

Holly smiled. “Yeah, I was one of them. I miss them, I haven't seen the guys in years.”

“I don't understand.”

“Yeah, I'm not doing a good job of this. You know how the Ranger's found you because you set off Ranger Dylan's S.O.S. Beacon all Rangers wear in case of emergencies?”

Slate vaguely remembered being told the skeleton he had discovered on the mountain had been a former Ranger and that the strange metal device he had played with was a beacon of some sort. “Vaguely.”

“Well that wasn't our first indicator that you were alive,” Holly explained.

Blood drained from Slate's limbs and he suddenly found himself lacking the strength to move forward. His Pokémon crowded him, pushing against him in comfort. “Explain,” he whispered.

Holly fidgeted. “Ranger Dylan, and all Rangers, possess Trackers that we wear around our necks, see?” She showed Slate a small metallic device that he recognized very clearly. After all, he still wore the one he found around his neck as a good luck charm.

He reached under his shirt and pulled it free, pulling it over his head to hold it in his hand so he could look at it. A flat oval the size of his thumb and about half as thick gleamed dully back at him. Holly continued speaking.

“They are powered off of body heat. When a Ranger dies wearing one it marks them as KIA once their body cools and on maps we sometimes use known corpses as locations for easier tracking. Which I always felt was rather morbid but it is pretty convenient if you think about it,” Holly began to babble.

“Holly, focus,” Slate said, his voice so intense it even surprised him. Holly nervously swallowed.

“Well once you put it on it reactivated the Tracker. This sometimes happens with Wild Pokémon disturbing the remains, either by eating it or the Tracker catching on part of their body. So-”

“Your outpost thought I was a Wild Pokémon,” Slate growled. Holly slowly shook her head. “What then?”

“I did,” she whispered. Slate frowned.

“What?”

“I thought you were a Wild Pokémon!” she explained in panic. And then it all came out in a rush. “I thought the Tracker got caught on you and that you just weren't bothered by it. Watching your Tracker move around helped pass time around at the outpost and some of the Rangers started trying to guess what kind of Pokémon you were and it's just how we passed the time!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Slate shouted. Holly flinched away from him. “Why didn't any of you check it in person when it reactivated? I was there for months!”

“Because you were on Mt. Silver! No one goes there, Ranger Dylan was only there because he was testing a new air route across the range. That he died convinced everyone to take safer paths. No one was supposed to be there!” Holly explained, the tears falling from her face.

That's all it really came down to really. There wasn't supposed to be anyone there on Mt. Silver. It was off limits to even experienced Trainers, with only the most elite being permitted access to its slopes. Slate wasn't supposed to be there.

He froze. He distantly could tell his Pokémon were all around him, tense and unsure of what they were supposed to be doing. Holly cried, her arms wrapped around her in a futile attempt to hold herself together and Slate could only stare. He could only feel confusion and rage and uncertainty gripping his mind and body, holding him in place.

“It gets worse,” Holly whispered. Slate twitched and Holly reluctantly continued. “At one point you began to wander northward and you crossed into Johto. Because of this you approached-”

“Blackthorn.” Cold fury burnt everything else away, freeing Slate’s mind and body.

Slate remembered it well, the memory of that moment so intense he doubted he would ever forget a single detail.. He had been exploring, having no reason not to. He had found old paths and followed them, finding it easier to move forward. It began to wind through valleys and forests, hunting and defending himself as needed, when a horde of Pokémon rushed toward him.

He thought it was finally his time to die. There were too many to fight, too many to run from. Slate stood unmoving as the horde moved forward, waiting patiently. However the charging Pokémon ignored him, moving around and over him in their desperation to flee something. A distant roar, almost a scream, could be heard above them. Slate hadn't known what the roar meant, he hadn't understood.

And then he watched the sky fall.

Draco Meteors and Hyper Beams, names of things he had not known at the time, began to fall from the sky, hitting the forest all around him. Endless blasts of destruction shattered the world around him and one hit close by. It knocked Slate into a tree which then fell on him. He struggled to dig his way out and once freed he began to run as fast as he could away, tracing his path back home and leaving the falling sky far behind him.

“I told Blackthorn you were approaching,” Holly whispered. “I told them an unknown Pokémon was approaching their settlement and that they should be prepared in case it was hostile. They told me they'd scare it off, no issue. I watched your Tracker pause when their attack hit and flee a moment later. I even congratulated them on scaring you off. I had no idea.”

Holly had almost gotten him killed. Slate had no idea how to react to that, how to react to her. Of all the things he'd learned today this was the one that stunned him the most. He didn't know what to say.

“It's because of those two actions I was demoted and I won't be viable for promotion until after you complete your first year as a Trainer. It's also why you've been seeing so much of me. I was meant to accompany you discretely on your Journey, keeping watch over you in the wilderness and on the Routes to make sure you don't run into trouble.”

She barked out a bitter laugh. “I just wasn't expecting the paperwork and meetings. Everyone is interested in you and it's never ending.”

Paperwork. Of course. That's what a human life was worth. Not pain, not suffering. Just little pieces of paper that had to be filled out and signed and passed around like a useless stack of nothing before being tossed in some dark hole for eternity. Paperwork.

Slate looked at Holly. He almost succumbed to the instinct roaring at him to tackle her, to punch her, hit her, sink his knife into her repeatedly for almost killing him. Almost. One thing held him back and as he stared into her eyes he watched her for any signs of deception.

“So it was all an act?” Slate asked. Holly looked at him in confusion. “Befriending me, being nice to me. It was because you were ordered to watch over me, to make sure I didn't die out here in the real world.”

“NO!” Holly protested. Slate flinched at the loudness. “Sorry, no. I befriended you because you're you. No one could have ordered me to do that.”

A lie. Slate believed Holly's reason for befriending him but he could hear the slight hesitation in her voice when she said no one could have ordered her to do it. Someone could have and a good Ranger would obey. That Slate was here now on this beach meant someone was using her relationship with him to test him.

Before Slate could decide what that meant, how he should react, he heard Scyther returning. The Bug Pokémon landed before Slate and chittered excitedly, gesturing up the beach.

“You've found them?” Slate asked. Scyther nodded sharply. “Show us.”

Slate would decide later. There were poachers to stop.

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

Time Tracker:

Days passed in Chapter: 8

Total Days: 94

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), Cascade(II), Thunder(II)

Trophies: Inter-Regional Rookie Tournament Qualifier (3rd)

Carry Limit: 6/11

Key items: Lucky Pebble, Aron’s Rock

Pokémon: 6

Name: Scyther (F)

Type: Bug/Flying

Potential Moves: Counter, Fury Cutter, Air Slash, Focus Energy, Silver Wind, Agility

Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Protect

Name: Alolan Vulpix (F)

Type: Ice

Potential Moves: Moonblast, Ice Shard, Confuse Ray, Draining Kiss, Icy Wind, Mist

Core Moves: Swift, Rest, Protect

Name: Lairon (M)

Type: Steel/Rock

Potential Moves: Dragon Rush, Iron Defense, Rock Polish, Heavy Slam

Core Moves: Rest, Protect, Swift

Name: Chansey (F) (Non-Combatant)

Type: Normal

Potential Moves: Seismic Toss, Life Dew, Drain Punch, Calm Mind, Gravity, Heal Pulse, Soft-Boiled

Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Protect

Name: Flaaffy (M)

Type: Electric

Potential Moves: Charge, Thunderbolt, Cotton Guard

Core Moves: Rest, Endure

Name: Machop (F)

Type: Fighting

Potential Moves: Counter, Revenge, Poison Jab, Snore, Close Combat

Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Substitute