Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation. -Oscar Wilde
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"If there is one thing I regret about joining the League, it's the damn paperwork." I groan, slumping face-first onto the stack of papers.
Aaron, having heard my complaints for the fifth time within just the last hour, barely glances up from his encyclopedia in acknowledgment before returning his gaze downward, ignoring me. Huffing in annoyance, I idly glance around the Cameron royal library, noting the rows of ancient-looking books stacked on the myriad wooden shelves.
Scattered about the cavernous room, various priceless artifacts sit on display cases, adding some color and life to the wall-to-wall beige-colored bookshelves. In the corner closest to our table a glass case full of broken and fractured time flowers rests on display, its recorded contents hopelessly lost and fragmented.
Honestly, it's a beautiful piece of art all by itself. I wonder if they added the display as a thought provoker about how easily knowledge can and had been lost by the civilizations that came before us.
Pushing away the idle thoughts on decor choices and sighing despondently, I gather the will to continue filling out my specialized citizenship forms.
These documents are some of the last steps of gaining a true legal identity, and they would be needed if I ever wanted to open a bank account or own private property.
Normally, I wouldn't care about the minutiae of all this stuff, but the league promised a substantial lump sum of backpay for the time I spent in captivity…so here I am, stuck in bureaucratic hell. At this point, I am debating whether all this work will be worth the money; but now that I've spent so much time on it, it feels like it would have been an even bigger waste if I don't complete the forms.
"Damn sunk cost fallacy," I mutter angrily at the pile of uncompleted forms.
What's worse is that I needed this stuff done before my reveal, so I can't really put it off to another day.
It's doubly annoying because half of the form entry fields are impossible for me to answer! What am I even supposed to put for my hometown of origin? I hatched in interregional wilderness, for Arceus's sake!
Hoping to make progress by skipping that form, I pick up another random incomplete form and reluctantly drag it to eye level. I nearly crumple the thing into a ball when I see several sections asking for my date of birth.
Not even the scientists know exactly how old I am, and it's not like I had any reason to count the seasons back when I was wild. They gave me general estimates on my age, but nothing I could put on these stupid papers and have it be legally binding.
'What idiot bureaucrat thought I should even attempt to complete these forms?! Yes, I totally know how to answer that because I obviously must have had a calendar while living in a den under a tree for half my life!' I think, growling low under my breath.
"You don't seem to be making much progress. Perhaps you should take a break and return to it later." Aaron replies without looking up, flicking an aura-infused paw out to carefully turn the page of his book nonchalantly.
Adhering the delicate page to his paw like that with Aura alone would have been a nightmarishly complex task worth praise for anyone else, but Aaron performed the action without the slightest hint of difficulty or strain.
"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." I sigh, pushing the stack of papers to the side.
Time for a well-earned break after having done literally nothing for an hour. Reaching under the desk, I grab my league-issued laptop from its carrying bag and set it in the cleared space before me.
I received the fancy device on my first few days staying here at Cameron Palace, and it is far superior to anything the labs had previously budgeted for me.
Desperate for any kind of distraction, I accidentally misclick on the wrong search engine icon. I am met with the laptop's default Pokesplorer search engine instead of my preferred Foxfire browser. Pokesplorer is fine; honestly, it's just that it has this annoying feature where multiple news articles cover most of the front page. But I am looking for distractions anyway, so this was fine.
Most of the articles are clickbait nonsense of the highest order, but one of the headlines actually grabs my full attention.
'New Discoveries at The Tree of Beginning? What is the league trying to hide?' The title reads.
Curiously, I click the article to see what the public has managed to uncover about last month's operation.
Nothing has been officially released about the mission yet, so this article is more than a bit surprising.
Skimming through the article, I almost laugh at the grainy image of my illusionary banner at the top of the article, the same one that had read 'Point radio dish here for report,' which I'd conjured while trying to contact base camp midway through the mission.
Apparently, some random civilian in Rota had a timelapse camera pointed at the Tree of Beginning, and had recently spotted my tiny banner while reviewing his archived recordings.
When confronted with the footage, league representatives only responded by saying that the operation was 'still in a delicate state' and that 'more information would become available at a later date'. Honestly, that vague answer was probably worse than if the league had just made no statement at all.
The public is understandably intrigued by any discovery made within the historically impenetrable exclusion zone, especially now that it is evident that the league is intentionally withholding information.
Browsing through, I find some related forum posts that have popped up in the wake of this news article being published. Funnily enough, some people are guessing that it probably involves Sir Aaron's remains and that the league was giving Rota time to make a big announcement or throw a parade or something along those lines.
'Giving credit where it's due, they're not wrong about the Aaron bit. Maybe Rota will even throw a parade in his honor.' I think with idle amusement.
Our reveal isn't scheduled until later in the month, primarily because the league is progressing at a snail's pace and not because Aaron and I aren't ready. Still, if the public is already starting to dig into things, it might be better for Aaron and I to reveal ourselves earlier to better act as a smokescreen for the real secrets the league wanted to keep. Like their possession of Mew DNA.
I imagine the reveal of two sapient Pokémon working for and alongside the league would probably be one hell of a distraction, all things considered.
Opening up the secure league communications channel on the laptop, I send a few messages to some people high up in ranger command, linking the article I'd found and basically stating that Aaron and I are willing to reveal early if necessary.
I receive a response almost immediately stating that high-level meetings are already underway to discuss the topic and that they would get back to us later in the day.
"Looks like our public reveal might be coming up a bit sooner than anticipated. Are you ready to rejoin the world, oh glorious hero of ancient times." I say jovially to Aaron.
Huffing in exasperation Aaron bookmarks his page before closing the book, giving me a deadpan stare.
"My ability to navigate political situations was never in question, Echo. The people of this era are not so different in personality from those who lived in my time, and I will remind you that I headed an order whose influence spanned multiple kingdoms. You, on the other hand, should not be allowed anywhere near a news outlet." Aarons says half-seriously.
Looking at him askance, I reply, "What? I am a perfectly personable individual of refined character. I will not sit here and take such slander!" Standing up from my seat, I start stretching out my tired legs. "Ah, much better, you may continue the slander now." I continue flippantly.
Putting a paw to his forehead in exasperation, Aaron begins again.
"Our reveal will have far-reaching consequences across the entirety of human society; you could at least pretend to acknowledge the significance of what we will be doing. Have you even spoken to Richard recently about the experiments trying to replicate what we are? It's only a matter of time before it reaches the public and people start trying things on their own, and we both know how likely it is for them to succeed without a literal mythical Pokémon acting as a conduit." Aaron asks in mild annoyance.
"I did hear about that, but I'd prefer not acknowledging it." I say uncomfortably.
So far, those experiments were being conducted by old idiotic aristocrats who got their hands on high-level league intel early. The fools were looking to cheat death, but nothing had been successful as of yet, and the rewards for their efforts had been severe brain damage or, in a few cases, outright death.
The current laws on aura experimentation only precluded experiments on others, not on yourself, so the league couldn't even crack down to dissuade others from trying. It's also likely that the league wanted someone to get lucky and share the knowledge after the fact, but at this point, it didn't seem likely to happen anytime soon.
Especially after that one idiot tried to 'replicate' my encounter with Dustin exactly, and the grim crime scene report after the fact was not a pretty sight.
"I should never have introduced you to Richard. You both are way too serious for your own good." I mutter.
"That wasn't a yes." Aaron states leadingly
"Yes, I've talked to him a bit about it. He's one of the best aura physicists in the world, and even he doesn't fully understand how we are as we are. His best guess is that Kirlia acted as a psychic bridge for my soul through the capture styler, but even that's just speculation after hearing about what Mew did for you. That entire field of study is effectively taboo anyway. If someone succeeds, great, but it's not my job to worry about the future of humanity as a species." I wave dismissively.
Deciding to switch the subject away to something less morbid, I ask Aaron a question.
"What are you going to do after the reveal anyway? I know you don't intend to join the league officially but…"
Relaxing in his chair, Aaron contemplates the question a bit before responding.
"I think I will take up a position as a history teacher at one of Kanto's universities. Oak presented the opportunity to me, and I have to say I'm very tempted. Not only at the prospect of being able to teach and learn from the next generation but also in being given research funding and personnel so that I can explore all the possibilities aura has yet to give." Aaron says finally.
That answer was not what I expected of the returned hero. My assumptions had always envisioned him fighting crime or dealing with terrorist organizations like some comic-book superhero.
"Really? Well, I suppose you would be pretty good at teaching history, especially considering you've lived through some pretty important events. Why go that route specifically, though?" I ask.
Looking almost offended, Aaron responds passionately before transitioning to a more wistful cadence near the end. "I spent so much of my previous life fighting in pointless wars when all I ever desired was peace. Near the end, I promised myself that if things ever settled down between Rota and its neighbors, I'd become a teacher or a traveling monk. It may be selfish of me to choose such a path, but I feel it is important to keep one's promises, especially if it is to oneself."
"Well, you won't find me complaining about your choice; you deserve some peace after all you did. Plus, I don't think a monk's robes would suit you," I say, throwing a brief Illusion over Aaron to confirm that, yes, the color clash of typical monk attire just didn't suit his blue/black fur.
"You realize the university will probably have to implement a lottery system though, right? I can only imagine how many people will want to attend one of your lectures. Also, I hope this doesn't mean you'll be skipping out on our weekly training sessions; I'm this close to mildly inconveniencing you." I say, pinching my claws together to show how close I thought I was.
Aaron is by far the scariest singular combatant I have ever faced, and his lessons on aura control have skyrocketed my own battle prowess by orders of magnitude. His mastery was already worthy of legend as a human, and now that he is sharing a body with his Lucario, he might as well be a legendary for how untouchable he is in combat.
Now, the man can tank impossibly strong attacks with a single aura-infused paw and fire aura spheres powerful enough to down even the strongest flying types in a single hit. The only time he ever showed any strain in a fight had been a sparring match between him and Cynthia, and after that, Illene had permanently banned them both from Cameron Palace's battlegrounds because of how much damage they'd caused.
Aaron's match against Cythia's team had ended in a draw, and even then, both implied after the fact that they hadn't even been giving it their all.
"That's a rather generous estimation of yourself, but yes, I will endeavor to keep my schedule open for you. Maybe one day you'll be good enough to give me a real challenge; but by current estimation, that may take several hundred years, give or take." Aaron responds glibly.
"You wouldn't be so high and mighty if you didn't have type advantage on your side." I mutter under my breath.
Aaron, hearing my words, lets a glint of challenge enter his red eyes.
I'd regret those words during our next sparring match when he proceeded to casually beat me into the ground using only dark-type attacks.
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Today is finally the day of the big reveal.
It's happening at Kanto's interregional scientific center, a venue just big enough for a couple hundred people to attend, with plenty of live cameras, reporters, and people of influence stacked in the auditorium. This all being broadcast live to the world. Totally no pressure at all.
I think my nerves are finally catching up to me when I sneak a nervous peek at the almost-filled rows of seating and see just how many people are here.
There are literally no vacant seats. Only Professor Oak, Princess Illene, and Aaron's presence next to me backstage helps keep me from panicking too much.
All too soon, I would have to take to the stage; thankfully though, I wouldn't be doing this alone.
"It's almost time. Are you two ready?" Oak asks us calmly as if what we were about to announce wouldn't flip society on its head.
His easygoing attitude does help, though, as I take a deep, calming breath and nod at the same time Aaron does.
Taking out my personal Pokeball from around my neck, I unclip it and hand it over to Oak's waiting hand. Reaching behind my back, I also grab both Gallade and Rotoms Pokeballs and pass them over to Illene, who is here backstage specifically for this reason.
I didn't trust my team with anyone else, but I couldn't carry them with me because Oak would be entering the stage with both Aaron and I in his pockets.
The next few minutes will be a carefully orchestrated piece of theater that will hopefully mitigate some of the shock of our reveal to the world. Oak is one of the most trusted and sociologically influential individuals in the world, so having him visibly in possession of our Pokeballs and releasing us on stage would no doubt help form subconscious opinions of us.
Aaron beside me takes out his own customized Pokeball and hands it to Oak, the transparent time flower shell gleaming under the fluorescent lights as it changes hands. I idly wonder how much it had cost Illene to get that thing commissioned, but I ignore the thought as our cue is called from the center stage a few feet away to our right.
With a quick gesture, Oak points both spheres at our bodies and returns both of us. The sensation of losing physicality actually helps to ease my nervousness and center my thoughts.
Putting us away in his pockets, Oak walks onto the stage with the ease of someone who has spoken on a world stage a thousand times previously. Finally reaching the center podium, Oak speaks, his voice resonating in the room as speakers amplify his calm dulcet tones.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, it is an honor to be presenting here before you once again. No doubt you've all heard rumors that the Pokémon league has been deliberately hiding important discoveries made last month in the Tree of Beginning." Oak intones the audience.
A low murmur of excitement and worry sweeps through the audience for half a minute before Oak raises his hands, instantly silencing the chatter.
"I understand that some may find this revelation distressing as the league prides itself in its transparency. Today, I will shed light on how the mission was conducted and what was found within the notorious exclusion zone."
Oak glances about the auditorium, making eye contact with a few key people, emphasizing his seriousness and allowing no one to doubt his next words.
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"For those familiar with the exclusion zone, you may be wondering how such a mission could even be conducted in the first place. Well, this endeavor was only possible through the efforts of a ranger whose existence has been classified at the highest levels up to this point. As for why all this secrecy was necessary, I think it will become self-evident once I introduce you to him."
Like a midwestern quickdraw, Oak draws my Pokeball from his pocket, launching my ball directly to his right, releasing me in a burst of white light.
Reforming from pure energy in less than a second, I open my eyes to gaze at the surprised audience. Slowly, a toothy smile spreads across my face as I take in their shocked faces. No one had expected Oak to suddenly release a Pokémon onto the stage, but I can already see some quick-witted individuals in the audience putting the pieces together.
In the back rows, several mounted TV cameras rotate slightly to focus their attention directly on me. Adjusting my pristine ranger uniform with clawed hands, I make sure I am as presentable as possible while also giving off easy confidence at all the new attention on me.
Acting is practically part of my genes; after all, no one would ever be able to tell how much adrenaline is in my veins.
Thankfully, the front rows are filled with several familiar faces, and my smile becomes more genuine when I see Richard and other Site 6 staff watching on with encouragement.
Without any real need for a microphone to amplify my speech, I perform my best 'butler bow' and speak to the whole room. My deep voice carrying easily in the space and causing a few people to flinch at my loud, inhuman baritone.
"Hello World! My name is Echo. It is a genuine pleasure to be here today with you all!" I say enthusiastically, deciding on the spot to completely ignore the pre-written speech the league had given me.
Some people seem terrified by my voice, but my last-second script deviation is immediately rewarded when I see Richard visibly facepalming and groaning out loud.
I wasn't sure if he'd get the programming reference from my first two words, but hedging my bets on Richards's nerdiness had yet to fail me. It seems even in front of a live audience, I can't help myself.
Sighing just loud enough not to be heard on the mic, Professor Oak unexpectedly reaches over and scratches at the back of my head, smoothly smothering the follow-up off-script things I'd been about to say.
The gentle hands are too much to resist, and I find myself silenced as I lean into the scritches.
"Echo here is a unique example of a recently rediscovered species called Zoroark. A species you might have seen in various nature documentaries. Known for extraordinary illusion crafting and mimicry, this species can find themselves hidden in any number of ecological habitats. What sets Echo apart from his counterparts, though, is that he is the first documented instance of true sapience in a Pokémon."
This revelation starts the crowd going, this time with multiple people shouting questions at the professor. Completely ignoring them all, Oak continues speaking, forcing the questions to die down.
"I know you all are curious about Echo's case; suffice it to say that he developed human-level cognitive abilities from an unfortunate accident with a Unovan scout ranger; the specific details of this event will be shared publicly after this conference is over, of course. However, Echo's case is not why we are here. Let me assure you what was found in the Tree of Beginning will interest you all just as much if not more than Echo's existence."
Finally, stopping his petting, Oak allows me to speak again.
Slightly embarrassed and only now realizing that he had pet me just to shut me up, I clear my throat and watch for the audience's reaction. Now that I see how eager and full of wonder their gazes are, I begin questioning if Oak hadn't planned that all along to soften the fear the audience would feel at hearing my voice for the first time.
It takes a long moment for the audience to settle down fully. I patiently wait by Oak's side, my Pokeball still visibly in his grasp, unconsciously imprinting the audience with a false impression that I was under his complete control.
The symbology of the Pokeball all but ingrained into the modern zeitgeist; when wielded by one of the greatest heroes of the modern era, it allowed the people present to more easily come to terms with the reality of the situation.
"I understand that my existence is a shocking one and probably not what you were expecting when asked to attend this event, but what I found in the Tree of Beginning warrants nothing less than revealing myself to the world," I say, motioning back to a projector screen pointed at the back of the stage's wall.
At my hand motion, the projector begins playing, and the overhead lights dim to allow a better view of the footage from Rotom's mission recordings.
A heavily-edited summary reel plays some of the more interesting findings until, at last, the crystal heart at the center of the Tree of Beginning is revealed in all its majesty.
"When the Princess of Rota asked me to take a memorial piece to Aarons's final resting place, I had not actually expected to find him. Surely, after all that time, his remains would be little more than dust."
The footage zooms in and focuses on the clear image of Sir Aaron, the aura guardian of Legend, sitting with a blank, almost wistful visage in his timeless crystal tomb. Subtle music plays along with the footage, emphasizing the wonder I'd felt in that moment.
"Yet there he was, perfectly preserved." I say, allowing the awe I felt to reach my voice.
Then the footage changes, and the audience, almost in sync, gasps as the telltale light of a released Pokémon fills the screen, obviously originating from Aarons's signature staff.
Without saying anything my 'fight' with Lucario plays without commentary, the visuals coming from Rotoms perspective as it intercepts the first deadly aura sphere. Only a few moments later, a flash of red from Lucario's eyes signifies the last few moments of recorded footage as Lucario strikes down Rotoms drone with a foresight-enhanced aura sphere.
Just as the footage cuts off, I cast a wide Illusion onto the stage. Manifesting as if from a dream, I perfectly recreate the scene from the Tree of Beginning from memory. The brutal fight almost perfectly recreated from memory for the whole world to see.
Everything is how it happened until I get to the part where Gallade's evolution occurs; I freeze the illusions in place as if pausing a movie.
"At this point, some of you may be wondering how it was possible for Aaron's Lucario to remain in stasis for so long without a power source, but the answer is this: Aaron's aura remained within the Tree of Beginning, his lingering soul preserving his companion's life through all that intervening time." As if in slow-mo, the Illusion plays again with only slight modification this time.
"And the reason I know this to be the case..."
Instead of showing Mews entrance, I project an edited version of events. One where the light coming from the crystal passes through Aarons's crystal resting place, landing on Lucario's back as he kneels down on the ground just as he had after Mews aura transfer.
"-is because he told me himself." I finish, dissipating my illusionary projections while at the same time, Oak pulls out the crystalline Pokeball from his left pocket, releasing Aaron at his side.
Dressed similarly to his old guardian clothes, Aaron strikes an impressive figure, even though he is slightly shorter than Oak. Lucario's confident posture makes him seem taller than he is.
Stepping aside, Oak allows Aaron to use the microphone—the audience, still in shock, only a hair's breadth away from falling into chaos.
"Good afternoon all, my name is Aaron of Rota and I have it on good authority that you all might have a few questions for me," Aaron says wryly, his voice echoing melodiously from how the speakers projected his aura speech. Almost completely opposite of my own monstrous undertones, his voice reverberates like a one-man choir.
Finally, the last string of sanity holding the audience back snaps, and the room becomes anarchy. People shout over each other, trying to ask their questions and be heard over the crowd's roar.
At this point, any resemblance to a structured conference devolves; half the people in attendance are no longer sitting in their seats and I think a fair number of people exited the room for fear of being trampled by the news reporters.
Somehow, in the chaos, the mob discovers that there are people in the audience who were 'in the know'. This is probably due to some poor fool from site 6 trying to answer one of the questions being bombarded at the main stage.
Seeing that no progress is being made, I take the initiative and conjure large illusionary banners above each of our heads. Over Oak, the illusion says 'Nerd questions here'; over Aaron, it says 'Hero worship and fan questions here', and above myself, I have the illusions spell out 'Miscellaneous'.
Multiple groups of people start forming clusters, gravitating toward the people best suited to answering their questions. The cameras in the back would still capture most of our conversations, and I'm sure the news networks are having a panic attack trying to figure out where to direct their attention.
The scientific-minded audience members cluster in the front around the site 6 researchers and Professor Oak.
Historians and hero worshippers gather to the left, where Aaron answers his own questions with calm, collected certainty.
To my delight, my plan funnels all the weirdos, eccentrics, and thrill seekers to the right, where I take a seat on the edge of the stage, kicking my feet out like a child at a picnic table.
We get through the expected questions first, like how I became sapient, but per the league's plan, I gloss over the details, referencing that the full story of my case would be released after the conference.
This would hopefully allow the public to form a better first impression of me before reading about my gruesome story on how I'd gained sapience.
Eventually, their questions start diverting to more entertaining subjects as I'd hoped.
"How well do you understand other Pokémon? Like is there a Pokémon language or anything like that? Do you feel lonely now that you are out of the wild and away from others of your kind?" One person asks me while jotting down notes on a pad of notepad.
"I wouldn't say there is a language per se, but I do have an instinctive grasp of how other Pokémon are feeling and how to act around them." I say taking a moment to ponder the question.
I haven't actually had all that many interactions with wild pokemon but I did get surprisingly accurate impressions from the Syther and Altaria at the Tree of Beginning.
"Now that I think about it, I don't know whether that's part of my Zoroark mimicry instincts or some empathy ability from my Lucario ancestry. As for loneliness, I haven't really felt much of that; Zoroark are fairly solitary outside of small family packs and I've been lucky enough to be surrounded by good people like Professor Oak, Princess Illene, and a few of the researchers at a scientific research institute."
Gesturing for the next person to ask their questions, I sit back and relax as the weirdly dressed man asks his question.
"Yes, Echo is it? I work for Veryberry Juice Incorporated. May I ask what types of foods you prefer? Is it all pokechow or do you eat human foods as well? If so, could you elaborate which foods you think are the tastiest?" The man in the bright purple outfit asks.
"Oh, that's an easy one. Basically, anything from Kanto Fried Chicken. It's the only place I can order meat by the bucket, and no one blinks an eye. I've tried a bunch of pokechows brands too, but I'm waiting for endorsement deal offers before I give my, let's say, informed opinion." I say instantly. Hopefully, that response will also prevent some of the inevitable endorsement deal offers.
No one would trust that I actually think the product is good and just assume I am saying stuff just for the pay. Hopefully, that would discourage marketers from pestering me needlessly.
Pointing to the next person, I wave at them to ask their question.
"How can I tell if my friends and family aren't Zoroark or Zorua in disguise?" The person asks nervously.
The question almost makes me want to laugh, but the seriousness and fear in their eyes has me taking the question seriously.
"One, they would likely have a voice like mine. Our vocals aren't meant for speaking human, and it took me a lot of practice to sound even this good. Second, Zoroarks' illusions are fairly fragile. If you've ever enthusiastically high-fived someone, it's likely they aren't a Zoroark." I say, but the same person asks another question before I can call on someone else.
"How does it feel to use a Pokémon move?" They ask quickly.
"I don't know how to answer that. It would be like explaining color to a blind person." I answer just as quickly, trying to avoid further questions from the same person but failing to call on another before they rapid-fire more inquiries.
In response, I start answering their questions as quickly as possible, trying to see just how many they'd had ready.
"Do you think you'd be able to become a trainer yourself?"
"Yes, since I'm already one, and I have two Pokémon on my team." I rapidly reply, enjoying how everyone else looked back and forth between us like the audience of a tennis game.
"Is it comfortable inside a Pokeball?"
"Yup, I've used that fact to sleep through a plane ride before; much better than the regular seating."
"Where and how can I catch a Zorua?"
"Usually in deep forested areas, although I wouldn't recommend trying; Zorua generally sticks around their parents until it's time to evolve, and the parents can get touchy when their kits are threatened," I say seriously, trying to convince them that that was a bad idea.
They jump to their next question without even pausing at my serious tone.
"What's it like working as a ranger when you are a Pokémon?"
"It's been fun so far. I actually haven't done much ranging, funnily enough. Hopefully, that changes soon now that I'm a public facing figure."
"Who's the coolest human you know?"
"Hmm, that guy over there." I say, pointing at a seemingly random audience member but knowing that I was pointing directly at Richard from my slight vantage point. Everyone looks in that direction in confusion, and I use the pause to move on to other people's questions.
"Alright, I think it's time to give someone else a chance to ask some questions. You in the back, what you got for me?" I ask, pointing to a slightly blushing middle-aged woman in the back with her hand raised.
"Um, I wanted to know if you are single or in a relationship with anyone." She asks with a straight face.
I stare for a few seconds, and in my momentary pause other people in the crowd start looking in her direction. I can see that the people sitting next to her look relieved, so maybe she had just drawn the short straw between her little group.
Brave women, she'd probably catch no end of grief just for having asked the question. She blushes further but holds eye contact with me.
"I'm single but recently widowed. I'm currently not looking for a relationship," I say before eyeing a conveniently placed clock mounted on the far wall, sighing in relief.
"Sorry, all, it looks like we are reaching the end of our time, so that's the last question I'll be taking today. Thank you all for asking your questions; I appreciate you coming over here to talk with me." I say, standing up and walking over to the central podium where Oak and Aaron are wrapping up their final questions.
Before Aaron can step away one final question is called out louder than the rest from someone hidden in the back of the audience.
"Since you guys are both canines, do you guys ever feel the need to sniff each other's butts?"
The question catches Aaron so off guard that his composure fully breaks, jaw slack at the absurdity of the question.
I start laughing uncontrollably as people start looking around at each other trying to see who asked the question. Instead of letting Aaron diffuse the situation I call out to him.
"What do you say Aaron, bet you ten pokedollars I can guess what you had for breakfast yesterday!"
Looking at me to see how serious I am, Aaron gauges my impulsive recklessness and immediately bolts to Professor Oak, recalling himself to the Pokeball still held in the professor's hand.
Laughing a bit more, I call out to the audience. "Thank you, random person, you just made my day with that question. I think Aarons's reactions tell you all you need to know, so no; we don't feel the need to sniff each other's butts." I say before nodding to Oak to return me to my Pokeball.
Finally, back in comfort, I relax and enjoy listening to Oak finish out the conference, thanking people for attending.
All in all, it went better than expected. Hopefully, people will remember these moments and not act fearfully around me once they know my full story.
Either way, I'm eager to finally be able to do some real ranger work, whether the public is ready for me or not.