Pewter City II - Contender

"Welcome to the Pewter Gym, where we're ready to rock you! How can I help you today?"

Despite the pun, Slate couldn't help but feel nervous. This would be his first foray into the Gym Circuit and he couldn't help but feel as though his performance here would determine the tone for the rest of his Journey. He breathed in and exhaled slowly to calm himself before replying to the speaker.

"I would like to challenge the Gym Leader for the Boulder Badge," Slate said. Hundreds of years ago when the precursors to the Gyms arose as Clans, formal declarations were always required to prevent outright wars from occurring. It was a tradition that spread around the world until it eventually evolved into the modern format, with some variations depending on the Region in question and the politeness of the individual speaking.

"Cool!" the eight year old sitting behind the counter said. He gave Slate a wide smile, showing off his missing tooth. "Which tier?"

There were three tiers of challenging a Gym. The lowest tier, and easiest for most Trainers, was to challenge just the Gym Leader for a battle. Winning awarded a valid badge in the city's colors and permitted entry into the League Tournament at the end of the season should a Trainer gather at least eight badges. It was known as the Trainer Tier.

The second tier involved facing the Gym's Gym Trainers in a gauntlet battle, one after another, before facing the Gym Leader. This was a much more difficult challenge for most Trainers, and one only the strongest attempted as it was mentally and physically draining for all involved. In addition, each completed Gym would increase the number of Gym Trainers the challenger would face by one with no cap. It awarded a colored badge trimmed in Gold, and Trainers who completed it were highly respected. It was known as the Challenger Tier.

The final, and most difficult tier, was only unlocked if the Challenger Tier of a Gym was conquered, or if they had eight Champion Tier Gym Badges from another Region. The Trainer didn't have to face a gauntlet of Gym Trainers but they did face the Gym Leaders Elite Pokémon, the ones they used in official League Tournaments. This tier was known as the Champion Tier and awarded winners a Platinum version of the Gym Badge for that city. Holders of these badges were regarded even more highly and had access to invite only events and were often approached by the Pokémon League and private interests for recruitment.

Each tier had various tiers of rewards. While respectable sums of cash and TMs were offered for the Trainer Tier, they increased in value with each difficulty. Champion Tiers also had the possibility of a Gym Leader offering other rewards, such as a coupon for a Pokédex, Bike, or even a Pokémon from their personal team. All tiers offered a reduction to the initial loan all Trainers took at the start of their Journey.

However, most Trainers didn't bother with the Challenger and Champion Tiers. The Challenger Tier only offered an increase in money, which often could be earned faster through bounties. Because of this, most Trainers could never even attempt the Champion Tier even if they were inclined to.

"I'd like to register for the Challenger Tier, please," Slate said, handing over his Trainer ID.

Slate was not most Trainers. He was the sort of person who would willingly walk into a forest filled with possibly hostile Pokémon if it meant the possibility of catching a Pokémon. He was the sort of person to try to achieve a Generalist Mastery, despite it never being done before. He was not one to shy away from challenges, no matter how difficult. It helped that he had a plan.

"Cool! We've got a slot in four days at six in the morning or in five days at eleven in the morning. Or all days next week," the boy said, looking at a computer screen with the utmost concentration. Or at least, that's what Slate believed otherwise the boy should stick his tongue back in his mouth. Then the boy's words clicked, causing Slate to frown.

"Why so long? Is that normal?" he asked. The boy shook his head.

"It's because of that tournament that's being held in two days for Trainers with two or less Badges. Lots of new and one Badge Trainers are trying to get it in before it starts in case they can win a new Pokémon. I wish I could enter but I can't use the Gym Pokémon," the boy said with a pout.

Slate grinned. "I'll take the one in five days. You said Pokémon are the prize? Where do I sign up?"

The boy concentrated on very carefully clicking and typing for a moment at the terminal. An old printer whirled up behind him and spat out a piece of paper that he handed to Slate. A quick glance confirmed it was a reminder of his upcoming Gym Battle and what was forbidden or not permitted. The boy looked up finally.

"You should be able to at any Pokémon Center. I think it's going to be held by the museum in the north part of the city though," the boy explained.

"Thanks, kid. Hey, I never got your name," Slate said.

The boy gave him a toothless smile once more and held out his hand. "I'm Brock!"

Slate shook Brock's hand. "Nice to meet you, Brock. My name is Slate."

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Brock was right about being able to register at a Pokémon Center. There was a man with a small table in front of him, reading a newspaper, and a sign indicating it was the sign up spot for the Inter-Regional Rookie Tournament for two Badge and under Trainers. Slate was signed up without issue and quickly retreated to the outskirts of the town with Scyther.

"Alright, I've got a list of things for us to try and one for us to work on immediately," Slate told Scyther. "We'll start with that one since it should be the easiest for you to learn."

To teach a Pokémon a new move naturally, several things needed to occur. The first was that the Pokémon must be able to learn the move. You would not teach a Charizard Hydro Pump for example as even with the aid of TMs it simply would not work. Once you'd decided on the move you'd work with the Pokémon to get them to channel the Pokéenergy that move aligned with.

Most Pokémon had little issue expressing their Primary and Secondary Typing Pokéenergy. However, the Pokémon still needed to learn how to channel their Pokéenergy through their bodies to achieve effects. Even Pokémon of the same species could channel the Pokéenergy in different ways, achieving similar or drastically different effects. It was up to the Trainer to help their Pokémon refine this process.

Finally, a Pokémon had to practice the technique, ensuring that it was muscle memory before considering it to be learned. Then it was up to the Trainer to work with the Pokémon to ensure it understood which verbal command meant which move.

The entire process depended on the nature, ability, and intelligence of the parties involved. This meant learning a new move could take anywhere from five minutes to five years and many Pokémon didn't learn every move at their disposal for a variety of reasons.

Over the next two days Slate ran through a basic exercise routine that Trainers around the world collaboratively developed to test their Scythers. Eighteen possible moves pulled from hundreds of known moves were all the moves a Pokémon could learn. Eight of these moves were known as Core Moves, or moves that every Pokémon could learn. Scyther, like most Pokémon, already knew Rest.

Rest wasn't just putting a Pokémon in a sleep-state. It rapidly healed them and replenished their Pokéenergy reserves by a significant degree. The longer a Rest period went, the more they'd heal and replenish. Unfortunately there did seem to be a cap on the amount recovered but it differed from Pokémon to Pokémon. However, Core Moves were usually limited to once per battle due to how strenuous they were on Pokémon to use.

The remaining ten moves a Pokémon could learn relied on a large variety of factors ranging from the parents species, Type, and movesets, as well as location, environmental factors, and even the time of day. This created a wide variety of combinations and ensured no two Pokémon ever had the same combination of moves.

By the time the tournament began, Slate had managed to figure out four of Scyther's moves. He and Scyther would have to work on discovering the rest themselves but it gave them a solid base to begin with.

The tournament took place in a large field next to the Pewter Museum. It was sectioned off into half a dozen smaller fields that were surrounded by dozens of Trainers, observers, and Pokémon. Slate made his way to the only stand and quickly signed his presence.

All around him was a crowd of Trainers, eyeing one another distrustfully. It wasn't an unreasonable stance; only one of them would place first and they all wanted the grand prize of a Pokémon. A few minutes passed before a man stood on a rock and clapped his hands, getting everyone's attention.

"Hello! Welcome one and all to the Inter-Regional Rookie Tournament! My name is Roan and I'm here as your master of ceremonies! Thank you!"

The Trainers politely clapped but it was obvious to all that they were uninterested in Roan. The man coughed awkwardly before continuing.

"Right! Well, we've got a treat for you this year as the prize pool has been expanded! The top four contestants will each have an opportunity to pick a random prize Pokémon from a far-away land, while the overall winner will be able to know which Pokémon are available."

Slate cheered with the other Trainers. Top four meant four chances to get a good Pokémon which was slightly more forgiving than only the Trainer who placed first.

"Yes, I know. And that's not all! Thanks to our sponsors overseas, each Pokémon comes with a complimentary Pokéenergy Mapping, free of charge!"

The Trainers burst into excited shouts and cheers. This was a prize worth giving their all for. The exact knowledge of what moves a Pokémon had would enable them to train them far more effectively. Slate was not alone in his desire to win.

"Some might say that's enough but not the IRRT! The top four Trainers will also receive an invitation to another tournament taking place in several months on," Roan paused dramatically, letting suspense build, "the world famous S.S. Anne! Where they'll have the chance to win even more amazing prizes and Pokémon!"

Slate shouted and cheered with the rest of the Trainers. His heart beat in his chest, pounding like a pair of drums. His blood raced and he was eager to battle, eager to win, eager to go.

Roan began listing off fields and numbers, pairing the Trainers up with one another. Slate's number was called and he quickly made his way to his assigned field, showing his slip to the referee there. She nodded, before gesturing him to one end of the field. A moment later a boy stood opposite of him, a Pidgey on his shoulder.

"This is a one on one battle between Trainer John and Trainer Slate! There are no substitutions or items allowed. Trainer John, are you ready?" the referee shouted.

"Uh, yes?" Trainer John said. Pidgey began preening his hair. "Pidgey no, we need to battle. Stop grooming me."

"Trainer Slate, are you ready?"

"Yes!" His hand tightened around Scyther's Poké Ball, the cool metal surface warming slightly.

"Begin!"

"Go, Scyther!"

"Go, Pidgey!"

Scyther appeared in a burst of red light, screeching to the world her arrival while flexing her scythes. Pidgey, who had only just hopped off of John's shoulder, screeched in surprise and turned around, flying back to its Trainer's shoulder.

"Pidgey, you're embarrassing me, go out there!" John hissed. Pidgey squawked in his ear before flying out onto the field, looking up at Scyther. Slate wasted no time.

"Fury Cutter!"

Scyther leaped forward, swinging her scythes. Pidgey, flapped backward, trying to evade the slash, but was unprepared for Scyther's second strike. It flew through the air to the side, crashing into the ground.

"Pidgey! Get up and use Gust!"

"Air Slash!"

Scyther's Air Slash hit Pidgey's Gust and the two attacks spiraled away from one another, sending waves of air into the crowds, causing them to shriek in surprise.

"Fury Cutter again!" Slate shouted. Scyther charged.

"Dodge it, Pidgey!" Trainer John began to say but it was too late. Even as the words left his mouth, Scyther rammed into Pidgey, slamming her scythes down harshly. Pidgey rolled a few feet back and did not get back up. "No!"

"Pidgey is defeated! Trainer Slate and Scyther are the victors!" the referee shouted. She immediately made a note on a piece of paper before calling out for more Trainers to take the field.

Slate recalled Scyther and approached John. "Is your Pidgey okay?"

John looked up at Slate before turning his attention back to Pidgey. "Yeah, she's just knocked out. That was a good battle though, your Scyther is amazing."

"Thank you. I was lucky to catch her," Slate said.

"Where?" John asked as he returned his Pidgey. "Sorry, I want to be a Flying-Type Specialist and open a Gym one day. A Scyther would be an amazing addition."

Slate nodded as he examined John carefully as they moved off the field. Perhaps he might be able to assist Slate in his goals. "I caught her in Viridian Forest a few weeks ago. She managed to slash my leg good but in the end I prevailed."

John's eyes went wide. "Wait, you fought a Scyther to catch it? Why didn't you use a Pokémon?"

"I didn't have one."

"Wow."

Slate let the silence linger for a moment, watching two more Trainers battle. He eventually turned back to John. "So you want to open a Flying-Type Gym? Wouldn't you prefer a Mastery to do that?"

John shook his head. "I think that'll be too much work. I just want to enjoy my time with my Pokémon and make some cash, you know?"

"No. Well, good luck with your dream, I'm going to go see where I have to go next."

Slate walked away without waiting for John's reply, disappointed by the lack of ambition but not surprised. A Mastery was a time-intensive and difficult task and not for everyone, and not everyone would share his ambitions. Still, he hoped he'd find promising Trainers soon.

He only waited for a few minutes near Roan before the man stood up and caught everyone's attention. "Well done to our victors! And good effort to all for an excellent first round! Listen up as we head into round two!"

Slate heard his number and approached a different field. He handed the referee his number and she checked it off before handing it back. Unfortunately an unwelcome voice spoke from behind him.

"Ugh, am I to fight you?"

Slate turned and saw Lincoln's face looking at him with disgust. He turned back to the referee who checked Lincoln's number before shrugging at Slate. Slate shrugged back. "Apparently so. Good luck."

"I don't need luck," Lincoln scoffed, shoving past Slate. "I'm going to destroy you and your pathetic Pokémon."

Slate frowned but took his place opposite Lincoln. The referee frowned at both Trainers before beginning. "This will be a one on one battle between Trainer Slate and Trainer Lincoln! There are no substitutions or items allowed! Trainer Slate, are you ready?"

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"Yes!"

"Trainer Lincoln, are you ready!"

"Pfft, like it will be a challenge," Lincoln said, carelessly tossing a Poké Ball in the air.

"I need an answer, Trainer!" the referee shouted, frowning at Lincoln. He gave her an annoyed look.

"Yes, yes, I'm ready."

The referee paused before raising her hands. "Begin!" she shouted, dropping her hands quickly.

"Go, Scyther!"

"Go, Rattata!"

The two Pokémon appeared in a blast of light. Rattata wasted no time in lunging forward with surprising speed and biting Scyther on the leg, causing her to screech in pain. Slate's eyes narrowed.

"Fury Cutter!"

"Ice Beam!"

Slate watched in disbelief as Rattata launched an Ice Beam at Scyther. Scyther, for her credit, was only shocked for a moment before her self-preservation kicked in, allowing her to move slightly enough that it only hit her arm. Unfortunately, it froze that arm and caused her to screech in pain.

Lincoln laughed. "Ha, TMs for the win, loser! Hit it again, Rattata!"

Yet Rattata didn't immediately launch another Ice Beam. It panted heavily and looked exhausted to Slate's eyes. Even though it could use Ice Beam didn't mean it had the power to do it constantly. He acted.

"Air Slash! Cloud!"

Scyther launched a half-powered Air Slash as she still only had access to one arm. She then dug it into the ground, tearing dirt and dust free, and flung it around using her wings, severely hampering visibility on the field. Slate lost track of the Pokémon, the audience, and Lincoln. It was just him and the dust.

"Rattata! Attack damn it!" Lincoln shouted in the distance.

A weak blast of blue light speared through the air but hit nothing. Scyther screeched as she raced forward, smashing into Rattata, who released a shrill cry. Silence fell on the field once more.

Slate heard the sound of a Poké Ball opening and saw a flash of red light through the dust. Had Lincoln withdrawn? That seemed oddly out of character for the other Trainer but perhaps Lincoln realized he was outmatched. Slate strained his ears to listen.

In the distance he could almost hear whispers but the audience around them was too loud. Just as Slate was about to order Scyther to blow the dust cloud away, he heard Lincoln.

"Get it!"

He heard the sounds of bone scraping on dirt and stone, the extra scratch of clawed hands or feet pushing off the ground. Something yowled as it flew through the air toward something unseen in the dust. Yet Slate knew it was Scyther.

Just as he opened his mouth to order it, Scyther used a move on her own violation. She glowed red, not with the light of recall from a Poké Ball but from using Counter in preparation for the hit. Metal rang through the air as Scyther met its target head on, screeching in defiance.

Whatever Pokémon hit Scyther sent an admirable amount of air through the field, dispersing some of the smoke cloud. Yet Scyther's return strike pushed far harder, sending a much stronger wind across the field. Her wings took care of the remainder.

To Slate's surprise, there were two Pokémon on Lincoln's side of the field. Rattata lay on its side, heavily breathing but still conscious. The other Pokémon was odd, with long limbs and longer claws peaking out and it was crouched, chest heaving as it struggled to breathe.

Alone on Slate's side of the field, Scyther's frozen arm had thawed but was an awkward blue. Fury was etched into every line of her face and she screeched in challenge at the new threat.

"Disqualified!" the referee shouted. "Trainers, return your Pokémon."

"Ha, I knew I'd win," Lincoln smirked. He returned his Rattata first before returning the second unknown Pokémon. The referee's next words wiped the smirk off his face.

"No, you lost. You brought out a second Pokémon in a one on one battle," she explained as Slate returned his Scyther.

"What?" Lincoln shouted, his face shocked.

"Excuse me, miss." Brad, Lincoln's brother, entered the conversation. He stood next to the referee with a large, brutish looking Primeape standing next to him. "I couldn't help but overhear the issue. I do believe you're mistaken."

"I'm mistaken?" the referee asked, one eyebrow raised. Slate noted her hand palm a Poké Ball.

Brad nodded. "My brother and this Trainer agreed to a modification before the battle. Two on two, I believe. My brother is perfectly within the rules."

The referee's other eyebrow joined the first. "Is this true?" she asked Slate. He quickly shook his head.

"No, I'd never agree to that. I only have the one Pokémon," Slate explained. Brad tutted.

"Don't lie, young man. I witnessed it with my own eyes. And I am a respected Trainer with many Badges," he said, flashing the inside of his jacket. The clink of metal could be heard from there.

The referee eyed all three Trainers. "The disqualification stands. I was not only alerted of the rule change but such rule changes are not permitted within the tournament guidelines in any case. Trainer Lincoln loses, Trainer Slate wins."

"That's not fair!" Lincoln shouted in outrage. Brad held out his hand, quieting his brother.

"I think you're making a mistake," Brad said with malice in his tone. His Primeape thumped its hands together. "I'm sure if you reevaluate your position you'll find my brother is the victor."

The referee looked Brad in the eyes, no trace of her thoughts on her face. "I see. Well, in that case…"

Before despair could grip Slate, the referee released a Pokémon in a burst of red light. An Alakazam appeared and crossed its spoons. "Send the two Trainers and the Primeape to the nearest Pokémon Center, Alakazam."

Lincoln, Brad, and the Primeape flashed white before condensing into thin lines that vanished in the blink of an eye. The referee turned to Slate and gave him a short nod.

"That was," Slate paused to think of the best way to define it, "an experience."

The referee sighed. "It happens a lot. Thankfully I won't have to deal with them anymore especially since Alakazam's Teleport should make them question which way is up for a few hours. Congratulations on your win, you can return to Roan now."

Slate did so and waited a much shorter time for his next battle. He returned to the second field and was quickly placed across from a young man spinning a magician's cane of all things. They sent out their Pokémon.

An Abra appeared across from Scyther. Slate and his Pokémon narrowed their eyes at the familiar looking Pokémon, especially since its narrowed eyes seemed to widen at the sight of them. The match began and the Abra instantly Teleported to the side to dodge Scyther's Air Slash.

"Remember the plan!" Trainer Will shouted, twirling his ridiculous stick.

Abra Teleported again and in the moment it took Scyther to relocate it, attacked her with a hazy glowing ball of energy that lazily floated over. It hung around Scyther's head before fading, causing her to shake.

Slate's eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what happened. Unfortunately, he had his answer a moment later when Scyther turned toward him and launched an Air Slash.

"Scyther, that's me!" he shouted as he dove to the ground. The Air Slash was blocked by something behind him. "Stop attacking!"

Scyther shook her head in confusion but a second Confuse Ray hit her, reinforcing the effect. She began to wildly slash the air and ground around her, staggering to the side.

"If she steps off the field, I'll have to disqualify her!" the referee shouted, her hand on a Poké Ball.

Slate gritted his teeth as Trainer Will laughed across from him, still twirling that damn stick. "Scyther! Focus!"

Scyther staggered to a stop, but her eyes were wild and her scythes tearing at the ground underneath her. Abra hit her with another Confuse Ray, causing her to screech in fury, raising her scythe's again.

"Scyther, no! Close your eyes and listen to my voice," Slate shouted desperately. Would she listen? Would she be able to follow his orders?

Scyther shut her eyes and violently twitched as the confusion effect persisted. "Focus, Scyther! Focus on my voice. Focus on where it is coming from and face away from it."

Scyther did so, moving in slow, unsteady steps. Abra peppered her with more Confuse Rays but they only caused her to violently twitch, the confusion effect not able to do more than reinforce itself. Finally, she stopped, facing away from Slate and at Trainer Will's grinning face.

"Air Slash, dead ahead," Slate ordered coldly, his eyes locked on Will's. The other Trainer's grin vanished in a flash.

The attack sped toward Will but to the other Trainer's credit he had already reacted. "Protect me, Abra!"

Slate did not know Abra's moves or its bond with its Trainer. So he was a little surprised when the Abra vanished and reappeared before its Trainer, using its body to block the attack. A splash of blood appeared as it collapsed. It did not move.

Even as the referee declared Slate's victory, he couldn't tear his eyes away from Will and his fallen Pokémon. And then he moved.

Slate slid on his knees to the fallen Abra's side, his hands pulling the miniature first aid kit off of his belt. Will was desperately pushing his hands against Abra's chest in an effort to stem the bleeding but Slate could see inside its chest. Even as his hands reached forward, Slate knew it was too late.

Will cried over Abra's still form while Scyther shuffled behind Slate. Slate could hear Will whisper the same word, over and over again.

"Why?"

Why did this happen? Why did Abra die? Why did Abra take the blow? Why did Will not dodge? Why did Slate order Scyther to attack Will?

Of all the questions, the last was the most dubious. Slate wanted to make the other Trainer pay for confusing Scyther so badly that she launched an attack at her own Trainer. He wanted Will to know that while Confuse Ray was an acceptable move it cut both ways. Slate would get in no trouble with the law for the actions his Pokémon had done while confused, the blame would lay solely on the Pokémon, and their Trainer, who used Confuse Ray.

Yet Slate's uneasy stomach didn't settle. He tried to open his mouth to speak, to apologize, anything, but nothing came out. The referee approached and gently but firmly pushed him away. Slate allowed her to do so, returning Scyther, and walking away. Behind him he could hear the referee consoling Will.

It was an unfortunate fact of the world. They battled monsters for sport. Broken bones, split skin, death, all were things to be expected during a Pokémon battle. Slate wasn't ignorant of any of those possibilities, his upbringing in a Pokémon Center, let alone his youth, ensured that yet it still wasn't a pleasant experience. Slate knew there was a very real possibility of the same happening to one of his Pokémon.

Roan's voice and the murmur of Trainers around him brought Slate back into the present. Their numbers had shrunk now, from sixty-four Trainers to eight. With a start Slate realized he needed one more win to get one of the prize Pokémon. He tried to focus on that.

He heard his number and assigned field and made his way there. His opponent was already there waiting for him, bouncing on her toes while a small Hoothoot sat on her shoulder. She gave Slate a beaming smile when he approached the referee.

"I'm Hannah! I'll be your opponent today!" Her voice was nice in a too loud sort of way.

Slate gave her a polite nod while handing his paper to the referee. The referee checked it before handing it back to Slate, gesturing for them to take the field. They did so.

"This is a one on one battle between Trainer Hannah and Trainer Slate! There are no substitutions or items allowed!" the referee shouted. "Trainer Hannah, are you ready?"

"You bet I am!" Hoothoot cooed from her shoulder. "And so is Hoothoot!"

"Trainer Slate, are you ready?"

Slate did not immediately reply, his mind playing over the image of a desperate Abra leaping in front of a fatal attack to save its Trainer. His hands shook and he forced them into fists while taking a deep breath.

"Trainer Slate, if you do not respond you will forfeit!"

"I am ready." Slate's tone was hard but steady. His fingers unclenched and rested on Scyther's Poké Ball.

"Begin!"

Scyther took to the field once more as Hoothoot fluttered off of its Trainer's shoulder. Both Trainers acted immediately.

"Air Slash!" Slate shouted.

"Air Slash!" Trainer Hannah shouted.

The two attacks hit each other in the air, dissipating harmlessly. Hoothoot took to the air and Scyther swiftly followed suit, chasing it down. It twisted and dove, trying to escape Scyther's pursuit, but the larger Pokémon kept up.

"Confusion!" Trainer Hannah shouted. While a smile still graced her face, her eyes were sharp and intent.

Hoothoot flipped in the air, its eyes glowing with ominous light. Scyther screeched as she slashed with her scythes, missing the first swing but landing the second. Confusion hit her a moment later and the attacks sent both Pokémon to the ground.

"Fury Cutter!"

"Echoed Voice!"

The attacks chosen by both Trainers resulted in a rather fascinating phenomenon. Fury Cutter increases in power with each successful hit, resetting whenever a miss occurred. Echoed Voice also increases in power with each use and did not require physical touch to be used.

Every time Scyther hit Hoothoot her follow up attack would get stronger. In between hits Hoothoot would use Echoed Voice, damaging Scyther and making Slate's ears ring uncomfortably. Occasionally Scyther would miss due to Hoothoot's small size, resetting her Fury Cutter. The cycle would repeat as the two Pokémon laid into one another and eventually something had to give.

Hoothoot wasn't content with being wailed on and had been hopping around the field trying to evade Scyther's strikes. However, it must have determined it had a chance at victory because it suddenly halted and turned around, fixing Scyther with glowing eyes. It might have even been successful had Scyther not pounced without hesitation.

The two Pokémon collapsed in a pile of limbs and exhausted bodies. The referee eyed them carefully for a moment, checking his watch as he did so. Slate's heart thumped in his chest as he willed his Scyther to stand. Her wings twitched.

Slowly, victoriously, Scyther rose over her fallen foe. She was weary and battered but she was standing and in the end that's what counted. She locked eyes with Slate and raised her scythes high as the referee called out their victory. They had done it. They were in the final four. They were going to gain a new companion.

The referee walked Slate back to Roan, confirming his victory. Three other Trainers stood there, two men and one woman, and they eyed each other and Slate warily. They were his competition for first place and the prize to choose their Pokémon.

Roan clapped his hands. "Well done! Each of you are winners in my book, you'll each get your prizes at the conclusion of the tournament. However, one of you will be able to choose! Let's find out who!"

He quickly rattled off the numbers and fields and the Trainers dispersed. A tall young man walked next to Slate and they eyed one another as they handed the referee their numbers. They parted after the referee confirmed their identities, assuming their positions and going through the prematch checks.

"Begin!"

Two Pokémon burst into being. Scyther, battered and weary, stretched her wings tall and wide to make herself look bigger. Yet despite the threatening display, Slate knew he was going to lose.

"Ember!" Trainer Tony shouted.

"Pepper it with Air Slashes! Don't stop!" Slate shouted.

The ember flickered out of existence several meters from Scyther but Slate still grimaced as Charmander let loose more, dodging the bulk of Scyther's Air Slashes. The few that hit barely pushed the Fire-Type around.

Yet as the two Pokémon traded blows, Slate could see Scyther visibly getting slower as exhaustion set in. She was an amazing fighter but this was a poor match up at best. Slate wasn't surprised when she stopped swinging her arms.

"Metal Claw!" Trainer Tony ordered. Charmander charged.

Slate's eyes widened at the chance. "Counter!" he barked.

Scyther staggered under the blow but glowed red just in time. A bright light flashed as it reflected a copy of the damage it took back on Charmander, throwing it from the field. Both Pokémon laid still and did not move.

"Draw!" the referee shouted, raising both of his hands. The crowd around Slate and his opponent roared with shouts and applause. The referee and Roan talked for a moment before sharing a nod. The referee turned back to both Trainers.

"The victory for this match goes to Trainer Tony as Scyther hit the ground first. If Charmander revives itself before the next match, it will be permitted to battle. However if it does not both Trainers will be noted as Position Third on the podium due to mutual knockout! Trainer Tony, please leave Charmander on the field for five minutes to determine its status. You may return your Scyther, Trainer Slate."

Disappointed at the loss, Slate did so. He couldn't help the smile that graced his face as he brought Scyther's Poké Ball to his lips. "Well done, Scyther. You are amazing. Get some rest because we'll have a new member of our team soon."

Scyther's Poké Ball shook slightly but settled in his hand. Slate replaced it on his belt and approached his opponent, offering his hand. Trainer Tony shook it while eyeing his Charmander.

"Good battle," Tony said, "although I think I'll be forfeiting the next one. Damn, what kind of Scyther knows Counter?"

Slate's lips twitched. "Mine. Is Charmander your only Pokémon?"

"Nah, I've got an Oddish and a Rattata too. And whatever I get from this tournament. You?"

"Just Scyther. And whatever I get from this tournament."

Tony laughed, clapping Slate on the back in a rather hard manner. "Heh, you're alright. Surprised you took down Charmander though, I got it from Professor Oak."

"You're one of his Field Trainers?" Slate asked. Tony snorted.

"If you mean underpaid intern, yeah. Still it has its perks. Like the Pokédex and the Starter and-"

"-being a great big prat," a young woman said as she joined their conversation.

She was thin with long black hair that trailed in the wind. A Pokémon dressed in a poor Pikachu costume rested in her arms, crooning at the Charmander at their feet. "Who am I facing?" she asked.

"You won? Of course you did," Tony said, shaking his head. "Technically neither of us but if Charmander wakes up I'll be happy to destroy you in the finals."

She rolled her eyes as she turned to Slate. "You wish. I'm Elvira. Kudos on knocking Charmander out, maybe it will deflate Tony's ego."

"I'm Slate." He began to look for ways to exit their conversation.

Tony scoffed. "You wish you were as cool as me. Your little ghost has nothing on Charmander."

Elvira pointedly eyed the battered Charmander at their feet. "It certainly surpasses Mimikyu in naptime."

Tony scowled. "Charmander will be a beast when he's fully grown. He'll burn all of your ghosts to ash."

And just like that, Slate wanted to stay in the conversation. "You have multiple Ghost-Types?"

Elvira blinked, as if just remembering Slate was there. She shot Tony a narrow glare before turning to Slate. "Yes. I intend to pursue a Ghost-Type Mastery. My family has been partial to them for generations."

Tony shuddered theatrically. "Creepy little things. You can't trust them."

Mimikyu seemed to glare at Tony and warbled in an upset manner. Elvira soothed it before giving Tony a smirk.

"What are you smiling about?" Tony asked. Elvira nodded behind him.

"Trainer Tony's Charmander is unable to battle! Trainer Elvira wins by forfeit!" the referee shouted.

Tony groaned and returned his Charmander. "Next time you won't get so lucky."

The four Trainers soon stood next to Roan facing the crowd. Cheers and shouts echoed all around them as they stood there awkwardly. Roan finally waved the crowd silent.

"Yes, well done! Certainly an interesting round of battles! I don't think we've ever had so quick a final round in all the years we've run this tournament. But we have our victors and to them, the spoils!"

The crowd roared again. Slate couldn't help but smile at the victory. First, third, or fourth, he and Scyther had won. It was time to claim their prize.

Elvira approached the table first. Roan handed her a piece of paper, pointing to each Pokémon as they went down the list. Halfway down Elvira waved the man off and pointed at her choice with a sinister grin on her face.

"Our champion has chosen her Pokémon! From a distant land, this Pokémon has traveled far to join us here. And now it will join this young Trainer on her Journey to go even further!"

Roan gestured for Elvira to stand off to the side before beckoning Slate and Tony forward. He clapped a hand on both young men's shoulders.

"It's not often we see a battle so spectacular that it ends in a draw. These two Trainers were matched in skill and power and tenacity. Thus they shall choose at the same time! What Pokémon will they chance upon?"

Slate and Tony approached the table. Seven Poké Balls sat on the table, gleaming and shiny and holding a Pokémon from another Region. The two Trainers walked back and forth as they deliberated, trying to guess which they should pick. Slate stopped before one.

"I want that one," Tony said, pointing to the Poké Ball Slate was in front of.

Slate rolled his eyes but moved to the side, allowing Tony to take the Poké Ball. Slate then grabbed a different Poké Ball from the end of the table, and it shook lightly in his hand as if greeting him.

The crowd clapped politely while the final Trainer, a young man named Howard, quickly walked forward and snagged a random Poké Ball. Roan frowned but turned to the audience with a grin, gesturing for the four Trainers to take their place beside him.

"And now it's time. Time to find out which Pokémon each of our victors has claimed. Trainers! Release your Pokémon!"

Four beams of red light filled the stage, before fading to reveal their Pokémon.

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

Time Tracker:

Days passed in Chapter: 3

Total Days: 26

Trainer Card:

Name: Slate

Occupation: Trainer

Ambitions:

To find his long lost Starter

To become a Generalist Master, a Master of all Types

Badges: None

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

Carry Limit: 1/1

Key items: Walking Stick

Pokémon: 2

Name: Scyther (F)

Type: Bug/Flying

Potential Moves: Counter, Fury Cutter, Air Slash

Core Moves: Rest

Name: ?

Type: ?

Potential Moves: ?

Core Moves: ?