Kanto Wilderness X – Birds of a Feather…
The Route between Saffron and Celadon was full of rolling hills covered in thick forests. Despite this, the path between the two cities was quite clear, kept that way by Trainers, Rangers, and the many trucks that delivered goods between the two cities. Every few minutes one would rumble past on their endless mission, shaking the ground and scaring Wild Pokémon away.
Slate didn't mind the noise although he made sure to camp well away from the dirt road as the trucks didn't stop even at night. Even at night the Wild Pokémon kept their distance, humanity had made their claim on this land despite not living on it.
Slate and his Pokémon continued their training as they walked but far lighter than what they had done under Siba’s tutelage. Slate mainly directed his Pokémon to practice their accuracy, wanting them to always be able to land a hit when they needed to. But the spirit of competition was strong in many of his Pokémon, causing them to occasionally harass one another with a stray attack, checking their teammate’s awareness.
Slate allowed it but kept a close eye on it to ensure it didn’t turn into bullying. He wanted his Pokémon to trust one another and they couldn’t do that if they were afraid of one another. For most of them he wasn’t concerned as they worked well together. But there was one that he watched more closely than the others. When they made camp, Slate addressed the issue he saw developing.
“Flaaffy, why are you focusing on Machoke?” Slate asked. They were gathered around the fire, eating their dinner of wild Berries and upstream Goldeens. Vulpix’s cool presence lurked behind Slate as she used his body to hide from the flames.
Flaaffy glared at his Berries, refusing to look up. Sparks danced over his wool in flickers as he balled his fists and punched the dirt. He glared at Machoke and bleated something that Slate was positive wasn’t kind.
“You’re upset you weren’t allowed to fight that Machamp, aren’t you?” Slate asked. Flaaffy’s silence confirmed Slate’s guess. “I’m sorry they don’t consider you a Fighting-type but you can’t take it out on Machoke. She’s not the one who made that stupid rule.”
Flaaffy seemed to wrestle with some internal conflict before huffing and allowing the tension to drain from his body. He turned to Machoke and gave her a low, almost apologetic, grunt that Machoke seemed to accept.
Slate nodded in approval. “That no one recognizes you as a Fighting-type is their loss, trust me,” Slate said. His words seemed to cheer Flaaffy up as the Electric-type perked up and dug into his dinner with fresh gusto.
Civilians rarely understood how the dynamic of Trainer and Pokémon worked, and had even more difficulty understanding the relationships within Pokémon Teams. Everyone had roles and preferences and while Slate's Pokémon were still finding their own places in the world, they knew each other's strengths and weaknesses. Flaaffy may be bitter toward Machoke now but Slate knew after a few spars that anger would return to levels of general hatred for all things. Flaaffy wasn’t an Audino after all.
Slate briefly wondered if there was anger management for Pokémon. He would have to approach the subject with Flaaffy at a later date, such as when Slate was safely behind a non-conductive barricade. Or several.
Chansey shoved one of her eggs into Slate’s face. He barely stopped it from breaking and spilling all over him. “I take it this is for me?” Slate asked her. She glared at him and pointed at his face, causing him to chuckle.
Unfortunately, this was the wrong thing to do with his irate partner. Chansey puffed up, swelling impressively, and moved toward Slate. Slate panicked, recognizing what she was about to do.
“Wait, Chansey! No!” Slate shouted, trying to back up. Unfortunately, Vulpix’s presence behind him locked him in place, allowing Chansey to sit on his legs, trapping him. She looked pointedly at the egg in Slate’s hands and looked at him expectantly.
“Fine,” Slate groaned. He pushed himself so he was sitting upright. “Thank you, Chansey.”
Chansey and Blissey Eggs were remarkable feats of biology. They were one of the main ingredients in the various Potions that could be purchased around the world as they had remarkable healing properties. Injuries and wounds that could take weeks or months could be healed in a matter of hours or days depending on their severity.
However, Chansey and Blissey Eggs were not eggs. They were semi-solid gelatinous masses in the shape of eggs that the Pokémon could produce at a rapid pace. These “eggs” could be eaten raw or cooked in a variety of ways and was often a popular addition to many meals.
They tasted like vanilla pudding.
Once Slate finished his meal, Chansey nodded approvingly before patting him gently on the cheek. She ended with a much more firm pat than Slate had expected, and he stared at her in disbelief as she walked off pleased with herself. She sat next to Bulbasaur who was gazing at the fire with a focused look in her eye.
“That’ll burn you,” Slate said. Bulbasaur’s eyes flickered to him once before returning to the fire. “Just don’t try to touch the flames, okay?”
Bulbasaur grunted but didn’t turn away from her observations. Vulpix’s cold nose brushed Slate’s side, catching his attention.
“Joining the rest of us?” he asked. Vulpix gave the fire a distasteful glance before hiding the bulk of her body behind Slate’s once more, only allowing her head to peek out. Slate scratched her ears in the way he knew she liked. “I’m glad.”
Lairon warbled, drawing Slate’s attention. He was dragging Slate’s backpack before him, almost stepping on it at times, but always just missing. He dropped it at Slate’s feet and nudged it, slamming it into Slate’s legs.
“Ow,” Slate complained, rubbing his legs. “Why did you bring me my pack?”
Lairon warbled again before nudging the pack toward Slate once more. Slate sighed and opened it up. He dismissed the idea that Lairon wanted his clothes, and considered the rations for a moment before also putting them to the side. When Slate shook a small can that created a rattle of metal, Lairon perked up but remained focused on the bag. Slate put it aside and kept searching his backpack, pushing aside gear until his hands met stone. He pulled it out.
“Oh, hey! It’s the rock you got stuck on before I caught you,” Slate said, holding it out to Lairon to see. Lairon warbled in delight as he examined it. Slate kept a firm grip on the stone as Lairon’s heavy armor brushed up against it. But seeing it reminded Slate of something else.
He dug through his pack once more, searching ever deeper. He pushed gear aside until his hand found what he was searching for and he pulled it from the bag with a grin.
“Do you recognize this?” Slate asked. He held out a tiny pebble and Lairon peered at it intently for a moment before it clicked. Lairon hopped in place, or rather as much as a Pokémon as heavy as he could. “Yeah, it’s the pebble we were playing catch with! Let’s try it!”
Slate passed the pebble to Chansey who squeaked before throwing it at Flaaffy. Flaaffy groaned and threw it away, and Scyther swiped it from the air to launch it at Bulbasaur. Bulbasaur, startled out of her observation of fire, threw the pebble toward Slate and Vulpix.
And Lairon.
Lairon reared back on his hind legs and opened his mouth wide. The pebble soared into his mouth and Lairon reflexively swallowed when it hit the back of his throat. His jaws clapped shut with an ominous clap.
Everyone was silent and staring at Lairon. Slate couldn’t restrain himself, he burst out laughing at the look on Lairon’s face, the utter bafflement too much for him. The rest of his Pokémon joined in and soon even Lairon was giving a few, laughing warbles. He turned to Slate and warbled something that might have been an apology.
“It’s alright,” Slate wheezed, waving Lairon off. “You’re alright. These things happen all of the time. I’m just surprised it hasn’t happened sooner to be honest.”
Lairon collapsed in a huff next to Machoke who gave him a consoling pat on the back. She still wore the clothes Siba had given them, wearing the colors and symbol of Saffron with pride.
Siba had told them that traditionally Machoke's and Machamps wore slim pieces of clothing, often modified to help them restrain their own strength so they don't hurt themselves. He had told them how the strongest and most dedicated of the Machop line worked without those restraints, instead training their minds to handle their bodies. Machoke was determined to do so and Slate supported her, even if he would be sporting more bruises during their spars. That it was also a respectful homage to their mentor went unsaid.
“Adjusting to your new size and strength?” Slate asked.
Machoke grumbled as she picked up a twig. It snapped almost instantly under her strength and she grumbled as she closed it in her fist. A moment later she tossed a pile of pulped wood into the fire and grabbed another stick.
“Keep at it, Machoke. Once you get a handle on your strength we can spar again,” Slate said. He held back a wince at the thought of trying to match Machoke blow for blow now. He’d have to start lifting weights. Or Chansey.
Scyther chirped when Slate made eye contact with her. He returned her greeting with one of his own. The first among the Pokémon he caught so far on his Journey, Scyther was noticeably larger than she was when they first met. Her scythes were long and hard enough that she could cut through tree branches with very little difficulty. If she kept up this growth rate, he might even be able to go on short flights with her, although they’d have to get licensed to do so.
Yet for now she merely switched her gaze from him to the woods around them. Slate didn’t call her out to stop, knowing it was a good habit for anyone spending time in the Wilderness. Instead he made a mental note to find her something she could relax with. A snack tailored to her species perhaps.
Vulpix’s tails thumped Slate’s back as she relaxed into his touch. He noted the tangles in her fur and made another reminder to purchase a brush to correct that. He eyed his other Pokémon, estimating what else they might need or want in the future.
As the night went on and they went to bed, Slate was happy. This was one night among many, so many more in the future that it would take Slate an entire lifetime to get through them all. And he was looking forward to it.
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The next few days were pleasant. They would wake up, eat, and break down the camp. Slate and his Pokémon would then set off, occasionally stopping for quick spars or breaks, and generally enjoying the isolation. It was peaceful and relaxing and it was shattered four days later.
Slate woke up to hear shouting in the distance. He and his Pokémon quickly broke down their camp in case they needed to leave and Slate had Machoke and Chansey stay behind in case they needed to fall back. Slate led the rest through the bushes quietly, sneaking forward toward the sounds of nearby humans. And then they found them.
Elvira, a Trainer Slate recognized from Pewter City, was arguing with another Trainer. The two young women were standing by the remains of a campfire and Elvira was gesturing to a collapsed tent next to her quite energetically. The other woman, who was busy brushing her hair, seemed almost uninterested in what Elvira was saying. Slate coughed.
Neither woman deigned to notice him. Slate noticed movement out of the corner of his eyes and saw several other Trainers waving him over. He did so, returning his Pokémon as he went, as he recognized several of them from the same tournament he met Elvira at.
“You're that guy from Pewter, right?” a young man with a Pidgeotto preening next to him asked. Slate nodded. “You knocked me out in the first round.”
“My name is Slate,” Slate said, giving the group a polite nod.
“John,” the now named John said. He gently nudged his Pidgeotto. “Oi, stop that. You spend more time on your feathers than Katy spends on her hair.”
A slightly older woman shoved John. “Some of us appreciate good hygiene. You should try it some time. My name is Katy,” she said, a hint of an accent coloring her words.
“Hoenn?” Slate guessed. Katy looked delighted.
“I am! I'm not a Trainer like the rest of them though, I'm a Coordinator!” she said pleasantly. “I'm in Kanto for vacation.”
“And because you're too weak to be a proper Trainer,” Tony said. He shoved his way forward and boldly seized Slate's hand in a tight grip. “I'm Tony, the greatest Trainer of our generation! Professor Oak himself realized this and gave me a Charmander.”
Slate was silent for a moment, digesting the fact that Tony didn’t seem to recognize him at all. He then crushed Tony's hand, causing the boy to flinch. “Coordinators are quite skilled Trainers,” Slate said with a grin.
“What?” Tony said, struggling to pull his hand free.
Slate repeated himself. “Coordinators are skilled Trainers. Their Pokémon have an impressive level of control and precision with their moves that many lack.”
The implied insult flew over Tony's head as Slate finally released his hand. The other young man flexed his fingers angrily but said nothing.
“Told you, Katy!” another boy said. He nodded to Slate in greeting. “I'm Baxter, an Electric-type Specialist. I'm hoping to study for my mastery under Lt. Surge.”
Slate smiled pleasantly at Baxter. “That's impressive. Have you already fought him?”
Baxter nodded. “I did! Nearly lost to his Raichu, that thing is a beast. It took out most of my team. Have you fought him?”
“I did. It was an interesting battle,” Slate said, remembering it fondly.
“How'd you do it?” Tony asked, inserting himself back into the conversation. “I bet he took it easy on you.”
Slate tilted his head slightly. “Well, after we faced his Gym Trainers on a Challenger level challenge, we fought a three versus three. It came down to our last Pokémon, his Raichu versus my Mareep.”
Tony laughed, loud and hard. “Oh Mew, another loser with a Mareep. You're in good company, Bax!”
Baxter looked away in embarrassment but Slate leveled a flat stare at Tony who slowly reigned himself in. “Anyway, Mareep evolved and beat Raichu pretty quickly after that.”
“Pfft, I bet Surge took pity on you and gave you the Badge,” Tony said dismissively.
Slate almost opened his mouth to deny but reconsidered at the last moment. Instead Slate smiled at Tony, giving him the largest grin he could that showed off as many of his teeth as possible. “I'm sure Flaaffy would love to battle you sometime. He loves challenges.”
The threat went over Tony's head. “Sure, sure. And he's also secretly the offspring of Zapdos.” Tony laughed again, which finally attracted the attention of Elvira and the final member of her group. Both made their way over.
“Slate! When did you get here?” Elvira asked. She made an awkward motion that almost looked like she was going to embrace him but backed off at the last minute. Slate eyed her but ignored the odd gesture.
“While you were arguing with your friend. My name is Slate,” he said, nodding politely to the newcomer.
“Jasmine,” Jasmine said, glancing between Elvira and Slate with a calculating look in her eye. She suddenly threw her hands around Slate in a tight hug, causing him to freeze. “We'll be great friends, I'm sure.”
Slate awkwardly patted her back. “Sure,” he said. He really didn't know what to say to that.
Jasmine pulled away, giving Slate a wink. Elvira nudged Slate off to the side, away from her friends who dispersed to start breaking down camp.
“Where have you been? I looked for you in Saffron and Vermillion,” Elvira said.
“In the Wilderness training mostly. Had an unfortunate encounter with Lincoln and Brad. Do you remember them? From the tournament in Pewter? Have you seen Lincoln?” Slate asked.
Elvira nodded. “Vaguely. Didn't Lincoln try to cheat and get disqualified?”
“Yes. Well they're part of a family of Poachers and tried to kill me at one point. Brad and his father are no longer alive and Lincoln is on the run. So if you see him, be aware he's dangerous and wanted for questioning,” Slate explained.
“Wow. And you killed them?” Elvira asked, her whole body tense. Slate shook his head, causing her to relax, but his words brought that tension right back.
“Only Brad after he tried to gut me. A Ranger took down their father while that was happening. When I got back to civilization I was detained while they verified my story,” Slate explained.
Elvira slowly relaxed. “And everything is fine? You're fine with taking a life?” she asked.
Slate looked at her in confusion before realization set in. He was so used to strangers knowing about his past that he expected Elvira to be familiar with it as well. “I'm not happy about it but it is what it is,” Slate eventually said when the silence grew too long. Elvira slowly nodded.
An arm weighed heavily on Slate's shoulders suddenly. He turned to see Tony grinning back at him. “So are you on your way to Celadon, Slate?” Tony asked.
“I am. I'm eager to get my next Badge.”
“Well how about you travel with us? We're only a few days away and it'll be nice to have some fresh blood with us.”
“That sounds fine by me,” Slate said. Tony suddenly tried to put Slate in a headlock.
Slate's recent experience with Siba and Lee caused him to act instantly. With a twist of his body he was free and he slammed a hand into Tony's stomach, causing the other man to fall to the ground in surprise. The campsite went quiet.
Tony quickly recovered. “Yeesh, you can relax. I was just messing with you.”
Slate frowned but backed off, allowing Tony to rise easily to his feet, even if every instinct in Slate’s body was telling him to end this now once and for all. He ignored that impulse.
“I need to retrieve my gear from my campsite. I'll be back in a few minutes,” Slate said.
And then he disappeared into the bushes before anyone could reply.
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Slate had only been traveling with Elvira and her friends for a day and he already hated it more than anything else.
They argued and talked constantly. There was never a quiet moment for Slate to relax and he was never alone as there were always one or two or more travelers by his side. It drove him crazy.
And their pace was glacier slow. Through careful questioning Slate managed to determine that this was actually them moving fast, that they spent weeks doing what Slate and his Pokémon did in days. When they finally called it quits for the day and made camp, they had only traveled a few kilometers. Slate was disgusted but resigned to put up with it until they reached Celadon and he could find a reason to split from them.
As was their habit, Slate and his Pokémon gathered off to the side of the main camp, stretching their limbs and readying themselves for the spars to come. Due to his angry nature, Slate decided to put Flaaffy in first against Vulpix, one of his more difficult matchups. They began.
Flaaffy charged in, swinging a Thunder Punch at Vulpix. Vulpix stood her ground, her position confident, waiting for Flaaffy to come to her. When he arrived she met his attack with a Moonblast, forcing Flaaffy back. And then she used Ice Shard to force him to dodge.
A Confuse Ray hit Flaaffy mid-air, causing his eyes to lose focus. He began to fight a foe only he could see, swinging his fists at the air. Vulpix dashed forward, sinking her jaws on Flaaffy's exposed arm in a vicious grip. And then to Slate's delight she tucked herself into a roll.
The end result was Flaaffy flying boldly through the air, confused and shocked as the Confuse Ray wore off. He smashed into the ground several feet away stunned and Vulpix wagged her tails in satisfaction. Flaaffy's growl alerted everyone he wasn't done, though, and the Electric-type quickly got to his feet.
He shot a Thunderbolt from close range, hitting Vulpix, and causing her to grit her teeth in pain. While she was distracted by that, Flaaffy used Charge to boost his next attack. A second, larger, Thunderbolt flew through the air.
Vulpix, to her credit, reacted by using Protect, which blocked the attack with ease. Vulpix peppered Flaaffy with Icy Wind, forcing Flaaffy to take the damage, but Flaaffy was unbothered. He took the attacks, flinching slightly, but powered through them, and threw a Thunder Punch.
Vulpix cried out as she was hit by it and flew through the air to land in a heap. Flaaffy, sensing Vulpix’s weakened state, charged in once more.
Vulpix suddenly lunged forward, sinking her teeth into Flaaffy. Pink light glowed from her mouth and a moment later she used a Draining Kiss on Flaaffy. She then rolled once more to throw him again.
Flaaffy groaned weakly from where he lay while Vulpix looked like she was about to collapse. Slate stepped between them. “A good warm up. Chansey, heal them up while we go over how you both fought and what you can improve on.”
As Chansey moved forward to heal Vulpix and Flaaffy, an unwelcome voice called out, “What the hell was that?”
Slate turned to see Tony standing nearby, his hand on a Poké Ball. Slate was surprised to find the other man looking warily at him as well as the other Trainers standing further behind him. Only Elvira and Katy didn't have their hands on Poké Balls although both looked unsettled.
“What was what?” Slate asked. Tony glared at him.
“Your Pokémon! Why the hell are you having them fight each other like that?” Tony demanded.
“To learn in a safe environment,” Slate said.
Tony scoffed. “That was safe? They were throwing lightning around!”
Now it was time for Slate to glare. “Safe, in this case, means against an opponent who isn't trying to kill them.”
Silence filled the campsite as the other Trainers digested Slate's words. Vulpix and Flaaffy, looking slightly battered but otherwise fine, walked up and stood on either side of Slate protectively while the rest of his Pokémon stood behind him.
“Why would anyone try to kill them?” Baxter asked nervously.
Slate met his eyes. “Because not everyone or everything is reasonable enough not to. In order to make my Pokémon safe, I train them so they know how to handle such situations.”
“You teach your Pokémon to be killers?” Jasmine asked in shock. It was Katy who answered her.
“A lot of Trainers at the higher level do. It isn't as uncommon as you might think,” she said weakly, justifying Slate's behavior for him. Unfortunately, her words didn't calm her travel companions.
“That's insane,” John said.
“Why would anyone do that?” Jasmine asked.
Elvira spoke up. “Because there are dangerous things in the world, we need protection!”
On and on it went as Elvira's travel companions questioned Slate's actions and the actions of more experienced Trainers. Only Elvira and Katy disagreed with them, only they supported Slate, even if it was only reluctantly in the case of the latter. And then Tony released his Pokémon.
A Charmeleon appeared in a flash of light, flexing its claws with a dark gleam in its eye. “Turn over your Pokémon,” Tony ordered Slate.
“Excuse me?” Slate asked in disbelief. Tony glared.
“I'm placing you under Citizen’s Arrest! We'll turn you over to an Officer Jenny in Celadon to deal with you! No one should be teaching their Pokémon to kill.”
Slate wondered if this was a poor attempt at a joke. “Uh, no.”
Tony's face grew dark. “Chameleon, Smokescreen.”
A wall of smoke filled the air between Slate and the rest of the group, obscuring their vision. Slate didn't wait to move, backing up and gesturing quickly to his Pokémon with several short hand signals. They immediately did as bidden, although Lairon had to nudge Bulbasaur to follow him.
Slate reached the tree line and dove behind a tree. A blast of fire tore through the Smokescreen, hitting a nearby tree and making Slate back off slightly more, to hide even further back. Alright time to see if Tony’s changed from our first battle.
Machoke appeared beside Slate, carrying Chansey. He nodded approvingly at her before gesturing to them to move to the trees behind him, distancing them from the battle.
Slate stared at where Flaaffy remained in the campsite and whistled to catch his attention. Slate only had a moment before the Smokescreen would hide them, only a single chance to sign a one-word message to Flaaffy. He did so, with a wicked grin on his face, and he would later swear that Flaaffy returned the grin with one of his own.
Flaaffy vanished into the Smokescreen and a moment later Slate could hear the startled cries of Charmeleon as Flaaffy attacked it. Blasts of fire tore through the Smokescreen in random directions as the Pokémon tried to hit Flaaffy.
To the side, Slate could see Vulpix corralling Jasmine and Baxter, pushing them away from the field of battle with carefully placed Icy Winds and Ice Shards aimed at their feet. Jasmine’s Spheal rolled after them but ignored its Trainer’s commands as it too fled Charmeleon’s stray attacks while a Shinx tried to hit Vulpix with Thundershocks to no avail. They vanished behind a tree.
To the other side he could see Bulbasaur perched on Lairon’s back. Her vines were wrapped around a panicking John’s limbs, dragging him along while his Pidgeotto tried to Peck her. Katy was following, trying to calm John down while trying to block Pidgeotto from Bulbasaur. Lairon rumbled before a Protect slammed into existence, knocking the Pidgeotto back and allowing them to enter the treeline.
The Smokescreen was starting to fade as were the sounds of battle. Slate carefully rose from his position behind a tree and walked into the clearing with sharp eyes out for danger. Flaaffy walked back to him with a skip in his step, which made Slate give him a quick smile. He quickly suppressed that as the Smokescreen cleared to reveal Tony and his Charmeleon.
Tony's left leg was smoldering slightly from where his own Pokémon hit him with an attack. The exposed flesh was red and blistering slightly but there was no blood fortunately. Tony was gritting his teeth painfully as he glared at Slate, but the Charmeleon next to him was no better off.
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Charmeleon panted heavily, its body twitching unpleasantly every few seconds with paralysis. One of its eyes was swollen shut and Slate could see bloody cuts and bruises on its body where it had been injured. A crazed look filled its remaining eye and Slate couldn't tell if it was from rage or something else.
Behind Tony the last Trainer stood. Elvira's arms were crossed as she was glaring at Tony's back. None of her Poké Balls were off her waist or in her hand and not a single hair was scorched on her head.
A glance to the left and right confirmed what Slate already knew. Baxter and Jasmine stood to his left, both with Poké Balls in hand, and Vulpix standing protectively in front of them. To the right Katy fretted while standing next to Bulbasaur who had two vines wrapped around Pidgeotto and John. Lairon stood in front of them, allowing a Protect to fade once it saw no danger.
“Return,” Slate calmly said. Bulbasaur released Pidgeotto who immediately began to preen their Trainer's hair out of concern. Slate's Pokémon returned to his side, each keeping a suspicious eye on the furious Tony and his Pokémon.
Slate turned his attention back to Tony and Elvira as their friends slunk over to them. Despite the situation, Slate couldn't help but be curious. “What was the plan with the Smokescreen?”
Tony glared at Slate. “Go to hell. I'm still detaining you, especially after your Pokémon attacked my friends.”
Slate stared unblinkingly at Tony. “Do you mean when my Pokémon moved them out of harm's way due to you blanketing the field with a Smokescreen and leaving them blind to any attacks? Or when you tried to illegally arrest me for doing something Trainers are encouraged to do?”
Silence met Slate's statement. “You do remember that in times of war Trainers are the first to be conscripted, right? The Pokémon League and the Regions want Trainers who are willing and able to fight, with all that entails. You won't find it in any Trainer Handbook but haven't you noticed how those older than us speak?” Slate asked. Elvira's travel companions noticeably shifted in discontent.
“The war is over,” Tony spat. “We won't have to worry about that.”
Sabrina's warning flashed through Slate's mind, of the approaching Ruin. “Wars come and go. Just because we have peace now doesn't mean we won't always. If we have the ability to fight, the ability to protect others, we have the moral obligation to do so. Or do you think you're above defending others?”
Slate could see how Tony was conflicted. He decided to drive the point home. “Your Charmeleon burned your leg in its craze to attack. What if one of those blasts hit one of your friends? You'll most likely have a scar from that attack. Would they? Would it have killed them? Would you have become a killer?”
Silence once again filled the campsite at Slate's words. He knew he wasn't being fair to Tony, Slate and Flaaffy had made the whole situation worse by attacking, but Slate refused to back down over this. And he wasn't going to let someone who didn't even know him, who didn't understand his past and what he had gone through, judge him.
Unfortunately, Slate's words had the opposite effect. Tony's stance firmed and he pointed at Slate. “I'm taking you down!”
Flaaffy stepped forward, sparks dancing from its wool. Charmeleon limped forward to meet it while Tony's friends scrambled out of the way. Only Elvira remained.
“No you won't,” Elvira said. “Corsola, use Strength Sap.”
The energy seemed to leave Charmeleon's body quickly, causing it to fall forward. A shadow appeared from beside it, rising out of the ground to reveal a Galarian Corsola, frowning at all. It drifted to Elvira once its work was done.
“Elvira, what are you doing? We need to take him in!” Tony shouted, returning Charmeleon and readying another Poké Ball.
“No we don't because he's right! And you shouldn't have attacked him for it!”
“He attacked our friends!”
“He stopped them from getting hurt while you and your idiotic Charmeleon lit up this section of the forest! Did you even see Katy almost get hit by that Flamethrower?”
“What?” Tony turned, looking at Katy who pointed to her slightly shorter and burnt hair. “Katy, I'm sorry, I didn't know!”
“You didn't know because you were so focused on arresting someone who didn't do something wrong! Did Slate attack you?” Elvira demanded, stepping forward.
“Well, no,” Tony said.
“No he didn't! Did he do anything illegal?” Elvira asked, stepping closer. Tony's eyes widened in delight.
“He did! He was being cruel to his Pokémon!” Tony shouted in glee.
“This is a waste of time,” Slate sighed. He turned to Elvira. “I'll be making my own way in the morning. I don't think this will work out.”
Elvira nodded, stepping next to Tony. “No I don't think it will.”
Elvira's palm meeting Tony's face rang through the campsite. “You could have gotten us all killed. I'm also leaving in the morning.”
The campsite was silent as Elvira walked over to Slate. A moment later Katy stepped forward, causing Tony to flinch. “Relax, I'm not going to slap you. But I think that we should all cool off and go to bed. This has been a pretty hectic evening all things considered.”
“Right. Bed, heh,” Baxter said. “Hope I can fall asleep after that.”
As Katy pulled Tony back to the other Trainers, Slate turned his attention to Elvira. “You don't have to leave your friends,” he said. She waved him off.
“It was going to happen eventually, I'm just glad it was now and not in a situation where I needed to rely on them to protect me. I never really noticed their aversion to death before tonight but it was always there.”
The pair walked to where Slate's Pokémon waited. “No more sparring tonight. Scyther you can come down now.”
A moment later Scyther landed, slightly startling Elvira. Slate gave Scyther a grateful smile. “Thank you for being ready,” he told her. Only he and Scyther knew that she would have gutted Tony had he been a true threat. Scyther nodded before moving over to the other Pokémon.
“I've never seen a Scyther that obedient,” Elvira said as the two Trainers sat down against a tree stump. “John's certainly isn't.”
“John has a Scyther?” Slate asked. Across the campsite the other Trainers were settling down in their tents to go to sleep. Elvira nodded.
“He bought it a while back from some Hunter. It seemed to come along willingly enough but it doesn't seem enthused about battling for him. It only perks up when John sends out his Skarmory.”
Slate thought of Holly's Skarmory and wondered how it compared. “Skarmory are strong Pokémon,” he said.
“Yeah but John's won't fight for him either. Every time he sends it out it ignores him. The only Pokémon John has that will fight for him is his Pidgeotto and I think that's because it was his Starter.”
Slate hummed in thought. “How did he catch Skarmory?”
“He didn't. It was a gift from his father.” Slate winced which caught Elvira's eye. “You know why Skarmory won't fight for him, don't you?”
Slate nodded. “And most likely why Scyther is so reluctant to fight for him. John hasn't fought to win their respect.”
Elvira frowned. “He caught them. Well he caught Scyther anyway. But his father caught Skarmory.”
“Exactly. He caught Scyther but Scyther saw Skarmory's refusal to fight for its Trainer. Pokémon do talk,” Slate said, gesturing to his Pokémon. Bulbasaur was poking Vulpix’s ears, causing them to twitch while Flaaffy and Machoke were comparing fists nearby.
Slate leaned back against the tree stump more, looking up at the night sky. “But Skarmory's respect wasn't earned or won. It's a strong Pokémon and it knows that and it wants a strong Trainer to make it stronger. John needs to prove that to be truly successful.”
A shooting star crossed the night sky. Or perhaps it was a Pokémon, flying high and fast above them all. Slate did not know.
“So what should John do? To earn their respect?” Elvira asked, sliding down next to Slate. They lay side by side looking up at the night sky.
“He should earn Scyther's respect first. Depending on the strength of his Pidgeotto and Scyther that should be doable. Once that's done he should train them further, focusing heavily on them. He should have Skarmory outside of their ball for this, watching the training sessions. He should ask Skarmory to do things, forcing it to consciously disobey, so it can watch the consequences of its own inaction,” Slate explained.
Elvira shifted beside him, reaching for her side. “Go on,” she prompted.
Slate sighed. “Eventually he'll need to fight his Skarmory with his other Pokémon. He needs to beat it to drive the point home that he made his Pokémon strong, that he can make Skarmory strong too. He'll most likely have to do this a few times because Flying-types are known for their pride. He'll have to overcome that. Are you writing this down?” he asked in disbelief.
She was. Elvira had pulled a black and purple Pokédex from a pouch on her side and was writing down everything Slate had said. She stuck her tongue out at him but continued to type. “Of course. This is good information. I've never had this issue with my Pokémon and I've known John for years. It'd be nice to help him with this after how he's struggled.”
Slate eyed the Pokédex with interest before he crossed his arms behind his head to make himself more comfortable. “If it helps him.”
Elvira's fingers stilled on her Pokédex. “What do you mean?”
“How do you train your Pokémon?” Slate asked instead, seemingly changing the subject.
“That's a bit of a private question, isn't it?” Elvira asked.
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why is it a private question?” Slate asked.
“Well, if you know how I train my Pokémon you can figure out how to beat me,” she said. Slate smiled.
“There are only so many moves a Pokémon can learn, only so many kinds and types of Pokémon in the world. Does everyone have a uniqueness that renders such small numbers of combinations moot?” Slate asked.
“No,” doubt crept into Elvira's voice. “I don't think so, at least.”
“There are so many factors that matter when it comes to training Pokémon. But it’s known that Pokémon grow in strength over time. That fact would imply that the oldest Trainers and Pokémon would be the strongest. Is that true?”
Slate could feel Elvira's head move side by side next to him. “No. The League tournaments are usually won by younger to middle aged Trainers.”
“Part of that is the older Trainers retire or are snapped up to serve in some other capacity and they lose interest in the competitive scene. But did you know a Pokémon's power eventually reaches a soft plateau?”
“What?” Elvira almost shouted as she sat up, she stared down at Slate in shock. “What do you mean?”
“There are diminishing returns. I read an article about it a while ago. It differs between Pokémon to Pokémon but by pure power there are many situations where younger Pokémon and their Trainers are capable of standing toe to toe with Champions.”
Elvira laid back down. “So it's possible a Champion Tier Pokémon isn't that much stronger than we currently are?”
Slate chuckled. “If you look at it from one perspective. Diminishing returns doesn't mean no returns at all. Champion Tier Pokémon are still way above us currently but we can push ourselves to prove a challenge to them based on power alone. Which is where other factors come into play.”
“Move pool,” Elvira said, naming one. Slate nodded.
“Pokémon are able to use their Pokéenergy to perform moves and abilities that we still struggle to understand. But there are only a few hundred known moves and Pokémon are limited by nature which ones they can learn, TM's aside, of course. So how do competitive battles remain relevant when everyone is using the same moves?”
It clicked for Elvira a moment later. “Experience. The strongest Pokémon are the ones most experienced in battle.”
“And in using their Pokéenergy,” he added quietly. “Every time they use their Pokéenergy it becomes a little easier, they recover a little faster. It all adds up and that is why League Tournaments are always changing, ever evolving in skill and ability.”
They fell silent as they contemplated that. When Elvira finally spoke it was hesitant, almost embarrassed. “I have my Pokémon practice their moves on trees,” she whispered.
Slate didn't judge her for that. It was a sound idea for any Trainer, especially ones who didn't have easy access to a Pokédex or Pokémon Center for research. “Every night I have my Pokémon battle with one another. They learn to use their moves and abilities against others in a safe environment, where they can practice and train without the fear of losing to an opponent. They can try new things while also building a bond between one another. And above all, it helps them grow stronger and more capable. But we've gotten far off track. Do any of your friends train like I do?” Slate asked.
The answer was given without hesitation. “No. None of us have ever seen or done anything like you had your Pokémon do.”
“Do you think they will after seeing my Pokémon in action tonight?”
Elvira was silent for a long time. Slate could see her answer in how she closed her Pokédex and put it away but she answered nonetheless. “They won't. They think they get enough training in battling strangers in tournaments and Gyms and the occasional Trainer on a route,” she said softly.
“They are good experiences but not enough, not in my opinion,” Slate said, closing his eyes. It was a nice night. “Will you start training in a similar manner?”
Slate could hear the grin in Elvira's answer. “Hell yes.”
Slate smiled.
----------------------------------------
Dawn broke and Slate waited for Elvira to bid her friends farewell. Some of them tried to get Elvira to stay with them but her mind was made up. With a few more hugs and a parting glare at Tony, the duo set off.
While the pace was much better than yesterday's, Slate and Elvira took several breaks for her to rest as she was used to a much more sedate speed. Both Trainers knew it would improve over time and Slate was simply pleased to no longer be stuck with a horde of slow moving fools.
Their surroundings were pleasant enough to be enjoyable and both Trainers released their Pokémon to enjoy their surroundings. Elvira's Starter Mimikyu greeted Slate's Pokémon pleasantly enough but her Galarian Corsola only gave both Trainers a sad frown before sinking into Elvira's shadow. Elvira waved the seemingly odd behavior off.
“Corsola is happy, that's just how she is. She turns into a bundle of joy whenever we're near clean water,” Elvira explained.
Elvira's last Pokémon was a friendly Litwick that glided around them both in quick slides. She was quick to caution Slate to not follow Litwick around in the dark. “You'd probably be okay but you might not. Litwick's rather friendly for a Ghost-type so you'd probably just get lost in the dark for a little while. He's a bit of a prankster like that.”
Elvira's Pokémon were welcomed by Slates in their own way. In an act of warmth, Chansey would occasionally spray Life Dew over Elvira’s shadow, coaxing Corsola out and encouraging it to float beside them at times. Litwick would often perch himself on Lairon's head as they walked, singing a haunting tune from time to time and causing small fires to float beside them eerily. Mimikyu quickly fell in with Vulpix and the two Pokémon would often gather and share meals together.
It was at one of these meals that an unexpected guest showed up. Slate had been talking to Elvira about what Ghost Pokémon she was hoping to eventually add to her team when a furry face poked out of a nearby bush and barked to get Slate's attention.
“Growlithe! There you are! I've been waiting for you to show up, I got you a treat,” Slate said, digging into his backpack.
“You have a Growlithe?” Elvira asked as the Fire-type glanced at her with wary eyes.
“Nope. I saved Growlithe from poachers and they've been checking in on me every once in a while. Ah, here we go,” Slate said, holding up a pack of sealed meat. He ripped it open and a delicious scent filled the air. “I read that Growlithe love Tauros jerky.”
The evidence supported that. Growlithe stumbled head over paws into the campground, completely ignoring the other Pokémon in its haste to reach the delicious treat in Slate's hand. Slate laughed and placed it on a nearby stone, backing off so Growlithe could eat.
Growlithe leaped onto the treat and devoured it in a matter of moments. It sat back on its haunches, licking its chops and whined at Slate for more. “Sorry, buddy, but that's it. I'll have to get more in the next city.”
The Fire-type whined again, giving Slate a pleading look. Elvira laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, catching Slate and Growlithe's attention. “So are you going to catch it? It seems to like you.”
Growlithe barked twice before wagging his tail. He then dashed from the campsite, leaving the two Trainers alone. “I think that means not today,” Slate said with a smile. Elvira nodded in agreement.
“So the next Ghost-type you want to catch is a Ghastly or Haunter?” Slate asked, settling back down.
“Yes. I tried to convince my friends to go to Lavender Town when we were in Saffron but they didn't want to make a detour to somewhere so ‘creepy’,” she mocked, wiggling her fingers. “Which is such a shame because so many different kinds of Pokémon congregate there.”
“Most people find Ghost-types spooky.”
Elvira stuck her tongue out. “Most people are idiots.”
Traveling with Elvira was pleasant. She rarely complained about the pace Slate set, which made Slate much more agreeable to the few requests she made for them to take a break. When they did stop to make camp she was more than willing to help him in setting up, even adding a few helpful touches like a primitive warning system using twine and two cans.
Elvira even agreed to train their Pokémon together, giving Slate's Pokémon a batch of new opponents to test themselves off. And fighting Ghost-types was fascinating, for both Slate and his Pokémon.
While Ghost-type Pokémon were technically alive, they also weren’t. If they suffered catastrophic damage they would collapse in on themselves, forming themselves anew from their own remains. This was a tiring process for the Pokémon, requiring them to rest for a period of time whenever it occurred, but it had fascinating implications in a battle scenario. But Slate did have one concern about it which he asked Elvira about.
“Of course they're the same Pokémon,” she said. “Their memories and personalities are mostly intact through this process but most are in an unconscious state for it. It's a bit like evolution where it might cause some disorientation but that always fades with time. It’s why, in order to gain their respect, you usually have to fight them to their ‘death’ to earn it.”
“Is there a way for them to truly die?” Slate asked. “It seems like the world should be filled with Ghost-types.”
Elvira was silent for a long moment as she and Mimikyu shared a long look. The tiny Pokémon nodded slightly, reluctantly, at its Trainer. Elvira turned back to Slate.
“You have to promise me right now you won't share what I'm about to tell you with anyone,” she whispered.
Slate eyed her. “Okay,” he whispered back.
“I mean it. No one!” she hissed.
Slate nodded. “I won't tell anyone, I promise. Why are we whispering?” he asked. Elvira eyed their surroundings warily.
“Ghosts fear it,” she whispered. That made Slate's eyebrows rise.
“Fear what?” he asked. She shushed him.
“We don't speak its name. Ghost-type Specialists know of it as the Consuming Void. We think it's some sort of Pokémon that eats other Ghost-types but we don't know,” she explained.
An icy chill spread down Slate's spine despite the warmth of the sun. A Ghost that ate other Ghosts?
“Ancient humans made imitations of that concept, forming the first Spiritombs. And those are true monsters, Slate, if you ever find a Spiritomb in the wild run. But they pale in comparison to the thing that hunts Ghosts.”
The icy chill spread to Slate's arms and legs, making him shiver. He had the sudden feeling someone, or something, was watching him and beside him Elvira suddenly tensed, looking around.
“Every time a Ghost collapses in on themselves, they go to a place we can never touch. They can reform there, allowing them to return here, but they are always slightly different. Sometimes it’s a big change, sometimes a little, but they always return, they always change. Except when they don’t.”
A wind began to pick up around them, rustling the trees. Elvira’s eyes fixated on the branches and she spoke quickly. “It eats them! However it does that, it makes that final death permanent for Ghosts, that’s how they truly die. And this wind is why we never speak the true name of it, why we only ever call it the Consuming Void.”
A branch snapped and something slithered in the darkness. Not small or fast, but large and steady, as if it was unbothered by anything in the world, making the trees all around them creak as if under great pressure. Elvira’s face paled and she caught Slate’s eyes, wide and fearful.
“That's all I'm saying. Come on, we should move on.”
Move on they did, leaving that chilly patch of forest behind. Elvira's explanation only raised more questions in Slate's mind, of the Consuming Void, and what it really was. But with how the words lingered in his mind and the chill pervaded his limbs, he decided it was probably wiser to leave it be.
Later that night, Slate lay on the grass, watching the night sky.
It was a calm night, a gentle night, and one of the reasons he felt so partial to the wilderness. You couldn’t experience such peaceful nature in any city, the press of humans and technology and life were too strong. Civilization left its mark on the world.
A warm body joined him on the ground.
“You never see views like this in the city,” Elvira said, resting her head on her pack. Slate hummed in agreement. “I like cities, don’t get me wrong, but I love views like this.”
“They’re indescribable,” Slate whispered. Elvira hummed.
“What do you think they’re like?” Elvira suddenly asked. Their Pokémon laid around them, enjoying the lingering heat from the dying campfire. “The stars? The other worlds?”
Slate gave a half-shrug. “Magnificent probably. Every mountain, every sea, forest, and plain, recreated a hundred times over on a thousand different worlds. Maybe they’re full of Pokémon, different and similar to ours.”
“Filled with people like us, wondering if there is anyone else out there,” Elvira grinned. Slate joined her a moment later with soft chuckles.
“I hope my alien counterpart has an easier life,” Slate said, his voice soft and almost silent. It was enough for Elvira to hear.
“Why do you say that?”
Silence fell over the night as Slate thought of Mt. Silver and his experiences there. Of his survival and the perils he faced. He thought long and hard about whether or not he should share his tale with Elvira, if he could trust her. A memory flashed through his mind, of him, Bill and Holly laughing around a dinner table as Vulpix dipped her face in a bowl of food, coming away with crumbs on her fur. He smiled.
Trust. Companionship. Friends.
“Well, it started with me waking up in a forest…”
It all had to come from somewhere.
----------------------------------------
They were almost to Celadon City when Elvira's Pokédex started chirping. Slate looked down at it in confusion but she seemed to recognize that chirp. “Pokémon Migration,” she said, her voice panicked.
Elvira quickly opened her Pokédex, hitting the alert. Slate stood behind her, peering over her shoulder to read the small words. “There's a massive Flying-type Migration almost on top of us. We should try to hide ourselves and wait for them to pass,” Elvira said.
Slate agreed and quickly released Lairon, Bulbasaur, and Machoke. The three greeted him with soft growls, causing Slate to smile for a moment before he shook himself to focus. “We need to hide. Lairon, I need you to pull up rocks to form cover over there. Bulbasaur, I need your help in disguising it with plants so it doesn't stick out. Machoke, grab any logs you can move quickly and pile them on.”
The Pokémon instantly got to work. Lairon used his immense strength to pull rocks free from the ground, pushing and stacking them in the spot Slate had indicated. Bulbasaur used her vines to gently break tree branches off of some nearby trees, depositing them at Slate and Elvira's feet.
The two Trainers helped guide Machoke to move the rocks and logs to form a rough bunker. It was hard work but both Trainers knew the potential danger they faced: if they didn’t hide themselves they risked being attacked by the Flying-type Pokémon if they were less than friendly toward humans. And their Pokémon were nowhere near powerful enough to hold off an entire Pokémon Migration by themselves.
They began to stack branches on the squat stone structure they built, with Bulbasaur adding her own touches here and there. Elvira’s Pokédex began to beep insistently, warning the two trainers that the migration was nearly upon them and she quickly silenced it before squeezing into the bunker they built. Slate followed her, shoving his pack underneath him.
“Seal us up, Machoke, but leave us a hole about this big,” Slate said, gesturing with his hands. Machoke rumbled and did so, enclosing the two Trainers in semi-darkness. Slate thanked his Pokémon before returning them.
“This is cozy,” Elvira whispered. The two Trainers were almost on top of one another but it couldn’t be helped. Fortunately, with their packs underneath them they weren’t terribly uncomfortable but both Trainers hoped the Migration passed quickly.
A few minutes later they could hear it; the clash of thousands of wings flapping through the air. Slate nudged Elvira for her Pokédex and she handed it to him with a confused expression. He turned it on and thumbed the brightness down so no light would shine out of their bunker.
Most Flying-types have silent or near silent wing flaps, he typed in a blank note. Only a handful make noise like that.
Elvira took the Pokédex from Slate, reading his message. She nodded in the dim light, thumbing her response. She handed it to him a moment later. Steel-types? I hope it’s not Skarmory, they’re trouble at the best of times.
Slate winced but agreed. Suddenly they could hear the dull thunk of wood all around them as the Flying-types began to land on the trees all around them. Slate and Elvira shared a grimace but flinched when a much louder and closer thunk occurred directly over their heads. A Pokémon had landed on top of their bunker.
The two Trainers went silent, taking in slow, shallow breaths. Slate laid his hands on Flaaffy’s Poké Ball, knowing that the Electric-type would be their best bet to buy them time to get away. He hoped it wouldn’t be necessary because if it was it would most likely be their deaths. Soft croons filled the air around as the Flying-types rested.
Metal scraping on stone echoed around them. The muscle’s on Slate’s jaw tightened and Elvira dug her fingers into his arm painfully. Slate could feel his heartbeat in his eyes and ears and Elvira’s through her grip.
The hole to the outside was briefly blocked by dark feathers. Their dark blue and black coloration did little to reassure the two Trainers that they weren’t in danger: While it may not be a Skarmory Flight around them, they were still surrounded by unknown Pokémon.
Distantly Slate could hear soft coos and croaks over the scratching of metal on stone and bark. Whatever these Pokémon were, they were some combination of Steel and Flying-type. He wished the Pokémon blocking their view of the outside would move so he could see more.
To his horror, the Pokémon had the same idea, turning around to face them. As its body and neck lowered, Slate’s heart raced faster and faster. His empty hand reached down for the knife on his belt, gripping it securely. His thumb hovered over the release to Flaaffy’s Poké Ball.
Vicious red eyes peered at Slate and Elvira. Slate didn’t recognize the Pokémon on sight but he could appreciate the almost shining gleam the Flying-type’s feathers had. Its claws were black and sharp but one was gripping an object: a bloody watch.
“Oh, Mew,” Elvira whispered. Slate more felt her words on his skin than heard them with his ears. “Oh, Mew, that’s Baxter’s watch.”
It looked like any other watch to Slate but he trusted his travel companion’s thoughts on the matter. The two trainers and the Pokémon held each other’s gaze for several long, tense moments.
The sound of metal scraping could be heard as the Flying-types around them began to move. Another clash of noise filled the air as they took flight, nearly causing Elvira and Slate’s teeth to vibrate unsettlingly. But the Pokémon with Baxter’s watch didn’t break eye contact, instead it stepped closer.
Knife or Poké Ball, danced through Slate’s mind. It would depend on the Pokémon in front of them and how many of its friends remained behind. If it was closer he could reach out and use his knife to silence the threat, especially with the noise. On the other hand….
Slate’s thoughts trailed off as the Pokémon suddenly flicked the bloody watch at the two Trainers. The metal watch hit Slate’s worn boot and bounced off, falling in the dirt. Elvira and Slate couldn’t stop themselves from looking down, their heads slightly dipping as if to get closer to look at the new object in their midst.
It’s what saved their lives.
A massive body smashed through the side of their bunker, pelting the two with stones. An unfortunately large one smashed into the space Elvira’s head had just been, her head just low enough to only give her a glancing blow. Slate didn’t escape unscathed either, as several long and sharp stone shards speared through the air where his vulnerable neck had been, instead tearing into his shoulder.
This paled to getting smashed through a stone barricade that was meant to help protect them. Both Trainers barely had the presence of mind to wrap their hands and arms around their heads, curling into a ball to help keep them safe. That did not stop the sickening wet smack as Slate preceded Elvira out of their accommodations, rolling to a stop several meters away. He finally saw their attacker through dazed eyes.
A massive Pokémon covered in silver feathers glared at them with furious eyes. Its claws and beak were dripping with fresh blood and it glared at the two Trainers with all of the fury of an enraged beast. It screamed in their face, causing their already addled senses to be further disoriented. Flaaffy released himself in a flash of light.
The first Pokémon, with blue and black feathers, smashed into the face of the second, knocking it back. Flaaffy’s Thunderbolt followed it a moment later, barely missing the smaller Pokémon as it hit the larger one in the beak. It screeched in pain before beating its wings, sending a powerful Gust to knock them all back.
Elvira groaned beside Slate. A quick glance told Slate that she was in no position to help, her eyes too unfocused to make sense of her surroundings. He would have to buy her time.
“Flaaffy, hit the big one again!” Slate ordered, even as his hand reached for his other Poké Balls.
Flashes of light filled the air as Flaaffy gleefully attacked. Thunderbolts fell like raindrops and the large Pokémon reeled backward once more. The smaller Pokémon appeared the moment Flaaffy’s attacks died down, using Fury Attack on their foe. But it stayed close too long.
The larger Pokémon pinned the smaller one, dealing savage Pecks without pause. It dug its sharp beak into the smaller Pokémon’s side, causing it to scream. With a savage jerk the scream cut off.
“Thunder Punch!” Slate ordered, a Poké Ball in his hand. “Revenge!”
Machoke appeared beside Flaaffy and both Pokémon charged forward, their fists alight with power. Flaaffy’s fist smashed into the Flying-type’s face while Machoke’s sank deep into its exposed side. It gave a startled squawk, releasing its prey, and it leaped into the air to glare down at them in fury. It vanished a moment later.
“Elvira, are you functional?” Slate asked, kneeling beside her. He kept a wary eye on the treeline where the Pokémon had vanished.
“No,” she groaned. Movement out of the corner of Slate’s eye caught his attention. His Pokémon were standing over the fallen Pokémon and seemed to be examining it for signs of life.
“No!” Slate shouted, startling everyone in the clearing. He looked between Elvira and the Fallen Pokémon and made a choice. He pulled out two Poké Balls.
The first released Chansey who he pointed toward Elvira. “Machoke, help Chansey with Elvira.” He approached Flaaffy, Machoke, and the fallen Pokémon.
It was in a sorry state. One of its wings was badly broken and there were several wounds that were bleeding heavily. Worst of all its throat was torn open, slick with blood that pooled unpleasantly. But the motionless chest and a quick check told Slate all he needed to know; it was dead.
“It helped us. It didn’t have to but it tried to help us,” Slate said. He returned the empty Poké Ball back where it belonged. “Flaaffy, keep an eye out and don’t hold back if you see it come back.”
Flaaffy nodded, sparks dancing over its fists as it looked skyward. Slate sighed before closing the Pokémon’s eyes, trying to put it in a respectful state in its death. “You didn’t know me and you weren’t mine, but in another world, another time, I would have welcomed you as my friend and companion. Rest in peace, friend.”
Slate returned to Elvira whose eyes were open but still slightly dazed. “How’s she doing?” Slate asked Chansey.
Chansey huffed and waved her hands at Elvira. “Tell the poffin to let me sleep,” Elvira grumbled.
Slate winced even as he returned Chansey before she could build herself up in a fury. Elvira would have to do some serious groveling in the future if she wished to return to Chansey’s good graces.
“Elvira, can you walk?” Slate asked. She whined. “Fine. Machoke, I need you to carry our packs while I carry her. Flaaffy, we’re leaving!”
As his Pokémon obeyed, Slate eyed the Poké Balls on Elvira’s waist. All were securely latched as they should be, but at no point had Slate seen any of them in Elvira’s hands. He was going to have to speak to her about that. He reached down and picked up Baxter’s discarded watch. A moment later he rose with Elvira on his back.
----------------------------------------
Time Tracker:
Days passed in Chapter: 9
Total Days: 168
Trainer Card:
Name: Slate
Occupation: Trainer, Healer, Trainee Joy, Field Healer, Saffron Gym Trainer (Former)
Ambitions:
* To find his long lost Starter
* To become a Generalist Master, a Master of all Types
Badges: Boulder(II), Cascade(II), Thunder(II), Marsh(III)
Trophies: Inter-Regional Rookie Tournament Qualifier (3rd)
Carry Limit: 7/14
Key items: Aron’s Rock
Pokémon: 7
Name: Scyther (F)
Type: Bug/Flying
Potential Moves: Counter, Fury Cutter, Air Slash, Focus Energy, Silver Wind, Agility, Roost, Light Screen, Double Team, Bug Buzz
Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Protect, Substitute, Endure
Name: Alolan Vulpix (F)
Type: Ice
Potential Moves: Moonblast, Ice Shard, Confuse Ray, Draining Kiss, Icy Wind, Mist, Aurora Veil, Freeze Dry
Core Moves: Swift, Rest, Detect, Endure
Name: Lairon (M)
Type: Steel/Rock
Potential Moves: Dragon Rush, Iron Defense, Rock Polish, Heavy Slam, Stone Edge, Dig
Core Moves: Rest, Protect, Swift, Detect, Endure
Name: Chansey (F) (Non-Combatant)
Type: Normal
Potential Moves: Seismic Toss, Life Dew, Drain Punch, Calm Mind, Gravity, Heal Pulse, Soft-Boiled, Trailblaze
Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Protect, Substitute, Endure
Name: Flaaffy (M)
Type: Electric
Potential Moves: Charge, Thunderbolt, Cotton Guard, Thunder Punch, Ice Punch
Core Moves: Rest, Endure, Swift, Protect
Name: Machoke (F)
Type: Fighting
Potential Moves: Counter, Revenge, Poison Jab, Snore, Close Combat, Bulk Up
Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Substitute, Endure, Protect
Name: Bulbasaur (F)
Type: Grass/Poison
Potential Moves: Ingrain, Sludge Bomb, Petal Blizzard, Trailblaze, Petal Dance, Leech Seed, Growth
Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Substitute, Protect