"So this is the field, eh?" Daneal muttered. His Nidoran reluctantly stopped a few feet behind him. He had seen two shiny Pokémon today in this region, and that meant that there could be more. The memory of that old lady and the stupid Hoppip irritated him. The boy and his Natu weren't much better.
Feeling somewhat angry, Daneal kicked at a fluffy weed. Tiny white seed puffs scattered everywhere, some of them clumping together like he and his siblings had huddled together when—Daneal angrily cut off that thought, then tied down his anger. Strong emotions bred other emotions, and Dan didn't want to deal with them now. He turned to the Nidoran.
"Okay Nidoran," he told the pink Poison-type. "I'm looking for Pokémon which sparkle. Help me find some."
The Nidoran grumbled and sniffed the air. Then it abruptly scampered off. Before Daneal could react, it was nearly gone. He chased the wayward Pokémon, fumbling at his belt for a Pokéball. Before he could recall the Nidoran though, he tripped over it.
The pink creature was snuggling with a pale blue Pokémon. Wishing for a Pokédex, Daneal examined it and realized that it was a female Nidoran. And even in these thick bushes, she seemed to sparkle faintly. He recalled his male Nidoran, then threw another ball at the girl. Upset and startled at the disappearance of her friend, she didn't put up much of a fight.
Smiling grimly, Daneal picked up the still Pokéball, then returned to the town.
"Mom!" Pete banged open the door to his house. I stood on the path, hesitating. "Mom! I want you to meet someone!" Flim-Flam nervously shifted his stone leaves, clattering quietly.
"Pete, I don't know what—" she saw me standing on the path, trying not to fidget. I was too old to fidget! Pete's mother was a pretty lady, maybe in her thirties. Her hair was a bright copper red, I suppose Pete had inherited some of his hair color from her. She obviously didn't quite know what to make of her son's new friend, so I reached out a hand to her.
"Hello ma'am," I waited as she wiped her own soapy hand on her apron. "My name is Sulia Indachas, and I met your son at the PokéMart today."
"Oh." She seemed to come back to her senses. "My name is Andera Iceford."
"Your son has informed me that he is beginning a Pokémon Journey tomorrow. I thought I might beg permission to accompany him," I requested formally. "I have never before met such an intelligent youngster, and as I am planning a journey of my own, I feel that he would be a valuable person to be around on the road."
Mrs. Iceford was literally taken aback at my speech. "My son? Pete?" She looked at the boy, who was blushing furiously, then turned her attention back to me. "What could possibly be important enough for you to go on a journey, let alone ask me to let you go with him? Or is that the other way around?" She looked a trifle confused.
"Well, my mother was strict on manners," I replied, easing off some of the formality. "But your son truly has impressed me, and it would be more of a partnership than either of us being the ‘leader.' To be honest," I made my voice sound a bit confidential, kicking my pride in the rear, "I don't really feel safe wandering around at my age." Flim-Flam attempted to muffle an outburst of laughter, and gave himself hiccups.
"Uh," She wiped her hands absently on her apron again. "I suppose as long as it's all right with Pete, you can travel together. However, my son" she turned to the boy, "still has packing to do, so he has to come in now to wash up and prepare for tomorrow."
Pete winced. "Okay Mom, I'll just work out a time to meet tomorrow with Miss Sulia, then I'll come right in." Satisfied with that promise, his mother returned to the house. "That was easier than I expected it to be," he said almost unbelievingly.
"I never doubted it for a moment," I said with a straight face, ignoring Flim-Flam's continued hiccups.
"Well, which way will we be headed tomorrow?" Pete asked.
I didn't have an answer right away. I closed my eyes, and felt the wind play with stray wisps of hair. My hair is white now, it's been snowy white since I was twenty. I don't know why it changed color so early, but then, I don't remember those years too well. Thedor vanishing and Mylia's death, and before that, the fire. Cursing myself and my stray thoughts, I returned my thoughts to the task at hand. Where had Mr. Saimer suggested?
Oh yes. "We'll head south to Pallet Town, or New Bark Town. You can choose which."
"Well, let's meet at the PokéCenter then."
"That sounds fine with me," I replied. A stronger gust of wind teased a few more strands from my bun, and I realized that the Wind was headed south as well. Disturbed by this coincidence, I somberly bid Pete farewell, then headed home.
The sun was almost down by the time I returned home. Whistling as Flim-Flam and I approached the gates, I realized that there were still things to do before I could get to sleep. First, and most importantly, I had to judge which Pokémon I should take with me. I also had to set up my dang PC to transfer items to and from PokéCenters.
I unlocked and opened the gate, waiting for one of the Sudowoodo to report. Normally, Flim-Flam had that job, but he had been with me today. Finally, a slow-moving rock tree made its way to me. For some reason, although I could understand Flim-Flam perfectly, this one made little sense.
((He said that nothing happened,)) Flim-Flam explained quietly, after I had smiled and nodded at the other Sudowoodo. We walked up to the porch, and I removed all of Flim-Flam's burdens. The new Trainer backpack and gear, the basket of leftover "stray items," and the bundles of supplies. All-in-all, I was rather pleased with the day's work. I sighed, reminding myself of other things to be doing.
I poked through my bundles, and found one of the packages of normal Pokéballs. I wanted to start out with at least four Pokémon. I don't know what the rules are for people who already have Pokémon when they get their Trainers license and Pokédex, but I did know that the limit of Pokémon per person was six—any others had to remain elsewhere. Keeping four with me would be enough for my protection, and would leave room for others.
"Flim-Flam," I asked tiredly, holding the PokéBalls, "do you know how these things work?"
((Pick one up,)) the Sudowoodo instructed patiently. I did so. ((Now, with your thumb supporting it, squeeze it, then open your hand.)) I followed the directions and was surprised to find that the ball grew at the rate I opened my hand, until it was the size of a softball. ((When it's this size, you can throw it at a Pokémon to capture it, or throw it to release a Pokémon.)) He reached out a branch and touched the button on the front of the ball. ((This is one of the ways of controlling the ball. Pressing this will cause the ball to open.)) The ball made a clicking sound and popped open. ((Now I, as an officially uncaught Pokémon, have the option to enter or not.))
"Oh. That sounds straightforward." I closed the ball and it made the same clicking sound. For the next few moments, I played around with this feature, examining the cleverly concealed hinges and figuring out for myself how to return the ball to its smaller golf-size.
((When you throw it,)) Flim-Flam cautioned, ((It will return to your hand. Most brands do that, based after the old Apricorn balls, but no one has been able to build synthetic specialized balls.))
"Where did you learn all this?"
((I wasn't always a garden Sudowoodo. My immediate ancestors all had Trainers—the line stretches back several generations. The most recent Trainer had a knack for Breeding, and he bred a bit too much! The Sudowoodo in my family are all much taller than the standard wild Sudowoodo, since the first Trainer in the human family decided that trees should be tree-sized!
((After a few close generations of us, our Trainer realized that he had altogether too many Sudowoodo to handle. That's when he got the idea to train us to be garden guardians, and he got good enough that people like you heard of him. Most of the other Sudowoodo here are only second-generation trained, which is why they're smaller than me, and why they aren't as easy to understand. My parents thought that I'd get a Trainer though, so they explained things like PokéBalls to me.)) He shook his branches. ((Open the ball again.))
I wordlessly did so, surprised at the long speech. Flim-Flam had just said more words at once than I had ever heard him put together before. I nearly fainted when he vanished in a flash of red light and disappeared into the ball.
"Flim-Flam, what are you doing?" I shouted at the ball, my voice getting shrill. The ball wobbled abruptly and the Sudowoodo reappeared.
((I was attuning the ball to myself,)) he replied, in a matter-of-fact tone which irritated me. ((Look at it more closely.)) I examined the ball again. Sure enough, there was a small stylized silhouette of a Sudowoodo on the button. ((I expect I'll probably be spending most of my time out of it,)) he added, ((but it's to make things official more than anything else.))
"Oh." I sighed. "Well, now that I understand these newfangled contraptions, it's time to find a team or something. Come on Flim-Flam." I put two of the PokéBalls back in their package, planning to sort everything out later. There was still sunlight to see by, so I wanted to make sure my choices were good ones. The Garden waited.
As we walked to the garden, I thought things over. Magikarp only know Splash until they reach ‘Level Fifteen.' Zephyr would take a while to learn offensive attacks as well, so I didn't want to have my team crippled like that at the start.
Paras were not that bad. All of the ones under the deck knew at least Scratch, and unless I was seriously mistaken, one or two of them knew Leech Life as well. But I remember hearing that Paras were very weak to the hugely popular Fire type. That ruled them out for the moment.
For the first time in decades, I almost wanted a Fire type myself. Almost. Perhaps if there was such a thing as a Pokémon that was only secondarily Fire, I probably wouldn't mind. Fire was weak to Water though, and my garden had none of those. Except the dang useless Magikarp! I made a note to pack Father's old fishing rod.
Bellsprout and Oddish. I pondered these two for a while, and couldn't decide either way on either family, so I put them in the back of my mind, moving on.
Pidgey and Spearow sometimes nested in the real trees in my garden. I didn't encourage them, but the protected nature of the area seemed to agree with them. Every Trainer I had met claimed that Pidgey were easy to train, fiercely loyal, but not very strong in the long run. Spearow were difficult to train, fiercely competitive, and in the long run, not much better than Pidgey.
Rattata ate my roses, so I kept them out of my garden. I think there was a family of Butterfree in one of the pines near the wall—but Trainers tended to think as much of Butterfree as they did of Pidgey. My house was new—so to speak—and wasn't built on any ruins, so my chances of a Gastly or Misdreavus were small.
There were decorative Exeggutor in my garden as well, but they were nearly useless. The few Tangela were far too docile to consider taking into battle. I sighed and returned to the Oddish and Bellsprout problem.
I decided, in the end, that an Oddish would probably be my best option, so I headed toward the Vileplume. They were already awake and wandering about, and a few of them were herding clusters of young Oddish with them.
"Hello," I greeted the assembled Grass Pokémon. They quieted and glanced at each other curiously. "You might not have heard this. I'm leaving tomorrow, to train the Hoppip I rescued this morning. But one Hoppip isn't going to be enough protection in the wild, and I felt I should take along an Oddish as well." I spoke clearly enough that I knew they could understand me. They whispered amongst themselves, and finally the largest and oldest of the Vileplume approached me.
"Vile," it stated. "Ploooooome!" I didn't quite catch what it said, but Flim-Flam translated.
((She wants to know how long you'll be gone.))
"I don't think I will be away for a terribly long time. I should be back before Autumn. If you insist, I might be able to send your Oddish back for the Winter. The other Sudowoodo should be able to guard this place, and I know you are capable of protecting yourselves." The Vileplume turned back to its companions, and I could hear the sounds of their conference.
"Vile Vile Plume!" The dark flower pushed forward a group of Oddish
((She says that there are five youngsters old enough to be trained, and you can choose from them.))
"Thank you." I turned to the Oddish. "Hello there. I am Sulia, and I hope one of you would like to come along with me tomorrow. It might be hard, but I think if you're dedicated enough, it will be worth the effort."
Two of the Oddish shrank back, their leaves stiff with apprehension. Two others curved their leaves curiously, while the final just shrugged.
"I'll be asking you to face other Pokémon in battle. You will be using the moves you normally use to get food from the ground, and energy from the sun, but against others." The curious ones waved their leaves, and the last Oddish, once again, shrugged. I let the frightened two return to their mother, then scooped up the other three. "I'll be back in a moment," I told the others, then headed for the deck.
The wooden structure at the back of the house was, again, guarded by several Paras. "Please let Zephyr out now," I asked them, and before they could move, the pink turnip bounded out of the darkness and leapt to my shoulder, crooning. Then she saw the three Oddish, and waved her leaves franticly.
"Piip!"
"Don't worry Zephyr. I want you to see if you can be friends with one of these Oddish. We're leaving tomorrow and I don't want you to be alone with no one your age!" I ploped the three dark blue Pokémon on the deck, then removed Zephyr from my shoulder. "I missed you today little one," I told her. "But right now, I hope you like one of these other little ones." I felt sort of guilty for burdening Zephyr with this decision, but I felt that since they would be working as a team, Zephyr should have teammates she could work with!
I wandered back to the garden. It was getting darker, and the wind was fading to a playful breeze. It sometimes did that at night, deceiving me until morning. The whispering sounds it made in the real leaves of the actual trees sounded self-satisfied and pleased. The tapping and clacking was a distant sound now, soft and peaceful like crickets in the distance. I still hadn't decided what else should go on my team.
((Have you thought about the Hoot-hoot?)) Flim-Flam continued to trail just a few feet behind me.
"What Hoot-hoot?" I thought I knew every creature which lived in my garden—by sight if not by their personal names!
((Two Noctowl moved into that big cedar with the crooked trunk a few months ago. By now they have a little one old enough to be trained.)) The dang fake tree could at least have not sounded so smug about it!
I headed over to that tree and called up at the thick branches. "Hello there!" This cedar smelled so nice! Two distinct voices hooted at me, then a third piped up. "May I please speak with you?"
An elegant pair of Noctowl wafted down from their nest. An ungainly Hoot-hoot tumbled after them, landing on one foot and quickly shifting to the other. They eyed me with suspicion.
"My name is Sulia. This is my garden." The smaller of the pair hooted at me again.
((He has been aware of your presence here.))
"I am going on a journey—of sorts—tomorrow, and I would appreciate it if you would allow your young Hoot-hoot to come with me." I was not sure about the youngster's gender, so I tried to avoid any gender-specific comments. The larger one hooted. It sounded like a speech to me.
((She says her son is old enough, and he would benefit from being Trained, but she is familiar with the ways of some Trainers—capturing Pokémon, then leaving them to languish untrained, in a computer somewhere, or in their PokéBalls. I told her that you are not like those Trainers, and that if they insist, you will likely be willing to promise to truly train their offspring, at least until he evolves, and beyond that if he decides that you are worthy. If you should prove unworthy, he will return to his parents or find his own mate. I also told them that I doubted you would prove unworthy, and that you are very likely the most respectable human I have ever met.))
That seemed to satisfy both parents, but they did not require the promise. Flim-Flam's obvious high regard of me seemed to have impressed them. Now it was up to the Hoot-hoot. The Noctowl explained the situation to their youngster, who still looked somewhat confused by the whole situation. Eventually he began to understand and leapt from foot to foot in what I could only hope was excitement.
After a few affectionate nuzzles, the adults flew off to their evening hunting, leaving me to deal with the Hoot-hoot.
"Hello," I said tentatively. "Would you like to meet Zephyr?" He bobbed his head, and I took this to mean ‘Yes.' "Well, come along then," I gestured, then turned and led him to the deck. I could hear the bird hopping along behind me, and the rustle as Flim-Flam fell in behind us.
"Do you want a name?" I asked the Hoot-hoot as we walked. It made a sound, which Flim-Flam translated.
((He wouldn't mind one.))
"How does Scoot sound to you?" Another sound.
((He doesn't mind it.))
"Rather unenthusiastic, eh?" I asked. The sound was different.
((He's hungry. I think it's a priority with birds.))
"Oh. Well, after you meet Zephyr, I'll get you all fed."
Zephyr was dancing around happily on the deck. There was just one Oddish with her, and I assumed the others had gone to do their usual nightly nonsense. The remaining Oddish was dancing as well, and it looked like the pair were well on their way to becoming friends. Leaning on my cane, I scooped up the Hoot-hoot with my free hand and placed him on the deck with the two plants.
"This is Scoot," I told them. "Scoot, this is Zephyr, and uh, an Oddish. I haven't named the Oddish yet though."
I walked around the wooden structure, my legs aching from the long day of walking around. I was surprised that they would finally start to hurt only now, at the very end of the day. The few stairs were only a minor obstacle, and I think they gave Flim-Flam more problems.
The trio of youngsters met me at the sliding glass door. Zephyr performed one of her astounding leaps and landed lightly on my shoulder. "I think Nectaar would make a good name for you," I told the Oddish. "Your family is known to make excellent scents at times, and offensive ones as well. But I hear that a Gloom's nectar is always honey-sweet."
The little plant curled her leaves, embarrassed. Zephyr twirled to the ground, and I guessed the little turnip was exclaiming about how pretty she found the new name.
I would have to ball-train them, eventually, but that could wait. I had to set things up for tomorrow.
The nurse On-duty was yawning as I entered the PokéCenter. She was standing at the center counter—the others were unoccupied. A few Trainers were sleeping on some of the couches, and it looked like she and I were the only ones awake. As I made my way to the counter, I winced every time my cane hit the wooden floor. I hadn't notice the noise yesterday, but in the pre-dawn silence, every sound was a loud sound.
"Hello," the nurse said sleepily. "Did you need to have anyone healed this morning?" Her partner, a Chansey, was snoozing on her feet.
"Well," I began, "none of my Pokémon have ever battled, but I think they could benefit from a refresher." It had taken me a while to decide on how exactly to carry my PokéBalls. Wearing them attached to a belt was too cliché, and keeping them in a backpack was inconvenient. A entire necklace of them would prove cumbersome after a while. So I had finally settled on keeping them in a sort of purse. The strap crossed my chest and back at a diagonal, with the actual pouch snug against my waist. It only had a flap over the top, and was held shut by a small strip of Velcro.
"We can do that for you," the nurse said, rubbing an eye with a hand.
"So have you been here all night?" I asked, pulling my four PokéBalls out of my bag.
"Yeah," she replied sleepily. "I normally get the afternoon shift, but my sister—she works here too—had a doctor's appointment yesterday morning, so she couldn't sleep. We traded shifts, and I'm not at all used to staying up so late!"
I smiled at her, and handed her the four PokéBalls. "Well, you be sure to get some sleep, ma'am."
"Oh call me Joy," the nurse said, yawning again. "It's a family name, so it's probably safe to call any Pokémon Nurse ‘Joy.' Well, at least the ones that I resemble. My sister is probably going to have to take over part of my shift again, gosh I could really use some sleep! I hope her medication isn't doing weird things to her again!" She put the PokéBalls in her machine, and pressed a few buttons.
"Weird things?" I recalled the strange behavior of the nurse I had seen yesterday.
"She was exposed to Koffing gas a few months ago, and the medication she takes for it make her a bit odd. She repeats herself, and she sort of acts mechanical. I hope she's better soon."
"So do I," I replied. "It sounds like both of you could use some vacation time!"
"Just a few more weeks," the nurse replied. The machine chimed, and the balls came out, looking like they had just been polished. "Here you go."
"Thanks," I took them and put them back in the purse. "I'm waiting to meet a friend here, is it all right if we gossip a bit more?"
"No problems from me. Anything to keep me awake until sunrise." I smiled.
"Do you know anything about Shiny Pokémon?"
"Well," she temporized. "Well. Um, they aren't terribly common, I know that much. I don't know why or what, but it seems that they are a recent phenomenon. From what I have heard on the topic, they're stronger than normal, and that two Shiny Pokémon of the same species cannot breed. In fact, two Shiny Pokémon of any species are unable to produce young. One Shiny and one normal though, that works out."
"Do you know where they came from?"
"Not really." She sighed. "In this business, you see a lot of Pokémon. I think I saw my first Shiny Pokémon about a year ago. It was an Eevee, belonged to a trainer who was passing through. She looked like she had been painted in glitter. Oh, I can't describe it right. She sparkled though. Her Trainer confided that his family bred Eevees, and he had raised her from birth." She yawned again. "Anyhow, after that, I saw a Shining Pokémon about once a month. Everyone who has a Shiny Pokémon is very proud of their darlings, and they all seem like decent people to me."
"Oh." I absorbed this information for a moment. "Have you heard at all about where they are from? Or how they originated?"
"Not a thing, at least, nothing's been proven about them!" The nurse sighed again. "It seems that it has piqued the interest of every Pokémon Professor around—I've heard reports that even Professor Oak wants to study them. I've heard all sorts of rumors though, that they were an experiment of Team Rocket, that Pokémon are evolving—and not into their next stages. That it's all a hoax, that they are from another planet. I've seen some pretty loud arguments over the issue. All I know though, is that I've never heard of a Shiny Pokémon disobeying its Trainer, or causing anything any serious and lasting harm."
"Those are some interesting theories," I replied, pondering the idea for a while. "I suppose it's just as well," I decided. "They are more powerful than normal, but are careful with that strength." The nurse nodded. "Well, I think I'm going to sit down for a bit, I doubt my friend will show up for a while, and the sun is just about up." The nurse laughed quietly.
Not quietly enough though—she woke the Chansey.
"Chan-see!" the pink poofball exclaimed, whirling around to see what had disturbed her.
"Oh it's nothing Chansey," the nurse sighed. "You can go back to sleep if you like."
The Chansey looked slightly offended, but took the nurse up on her offer and was quietly snoring again in seconds.
Pete arrived a short time after the shift change. The nurse who had helped me waved jauntily as she headed home, her Chansey sleepwalking behind her. Another nurse, her replacement, looked so much like "my" nurse that I wished that I could get a group of them together to compare them.
And that was how Pete found me, thinking about family traits in one of the extremely comfortable armchairs. He looked like he hadn't slept well—only to be expected—but full of energy.
Tatter was sleeping on Pete's shoulder. The little round bird looked like a plush toy, but I wisely refrained from mentioning this opinion. "Good morning Miss Sulia," he said cheerfully, but quietly enough to avoid disturbing the sleeping Trainers. "Are you ready to go?"
"I am," I replied. "Are you ready?" He nodded solemnly. "I want you to meet my Pokémon," I told him. "Since we all will be working together for a while, I feel it best to have everyone knowing everyone else." As we headed outside, I waved at the nurse, who waved back.
The night-shift nurse had explained this PokéCenter's shifts to me—there were three shifts of three nurses on duty during the late morning through mid evening, but in the late evening, night, and early morning shifts, there was only one nurse. It seemed to work well, but the way they all looked alike probably confused some people!
There was a small fountain with benches off to the side of the front of the PokéCenter. I decided that this area was out-of-the-way enough to suit me. Reaching into my pouch, I pulled out all four of my occupied PokéBalls—the others were kept in a pocket in my backpack. I released Flim-Flam first, he emerged looking rested and happy.
"You already know Flim-Flam," I told Pete. "This is Zephyr." I sent out the little turnip, who seemed pleased at her regained freedom of movement, and danced around on the light morning breeze. "Last night I went through my garden and chose Nectaar and Scoot to fill out my team—I believe that I can catch other Pokémon to fill out the rest of the empty spots." The Oddish and Hoot-hoot came out stretching sleepily—they had stayed up most of the night, and I expected them to be glad at the chance to spend the day dozing in their PokéBalls. "Everyone, this is Pete. We are going to be traveling with him for a while." They all made their respective greeting noises at him, then I called them all back into their Balls. It served no purpose making any of them waste energy by walking all day!
"Well," Pete said sheepishly. "I came up with names for everyone on my team as well. I can tell you about them on the way though, I'd like to get to the next town by tonight."
"That's a good idea," I admitted. The PokéCenter was in the middle of the town, and the streets were mostly empty as we walked.
"I named the Rattata Pep and Pap." Pete began abruptly. "Pap is the bigger one. The Pidgey is Fleet, and the Ekans is Shess." I imagined that it had taken him all night to think of names for them—at least, the parts of the night he hadn't spent in attempts to plan the whole day out.
We reached the edge of the town. The road was paved in black asphalt, and did not at all fit the descriptions I had heard of the normal sort of paths Trainers would take. The road sloped up to the rim of the little valley, where actual wilderness began. It was on the opposite side of the town from the tiny trail that led to my house. All in all, it was rather disappointing, and I thought that perhaps the sheer presence of humans it represented would serve to drive away wildlife.
I said as much to Pete, who laughed. "Oh don't worry Miss Sulia. This is the road for cars. The Trainer Path starts over there," he pointed at a gap in the bushes. "And my uncle said that it is usually pretty quiet. We should get to Fern Rock some time this evening."
We headed for the Trainer Path, and to my relief I found that not only was it clearly defined, it was also marked by painted wooden posts at regular intervals. The path itself was covered with a thin layer of pine needles. The needles had been scuffed up in places, revealing the dull gray of old asphalt. The trees were a thorough mix of various varieties, taller pines and beautiful mottled gray trees I couldn't identify. There were several smaller trees growing between them, they seemed to shelter in the shadows of the taller trees, and even smaller bushes huddling in thickets here and there.
The entire forest was quite damp. It hadn't rained for several days, but there were several streams wandering about, and I suppose the carpet of fallen leaves could hold moisture for quite some time. My old bones did not appreciate the humidity, and I thanked whatever kept me from developing arthritis in my old age.
I could almost imagine Flim-Flam's reply to that thought. "Old? You? Never!" I sighed.
"Miss Sulia? Is there something wrong?" Pete was looking at me with a mixture of worry and something else.
"No," I sighed again. "It's just that even as a child, I never wanted to be a Trainer. I never really had any goals to speak of, so although like most other little ones, I entertained ideas of it, I never took those fancies seriously. None of the plans I had for my future had anything to do with Pokémon! And now I find myself tossed into an unexpected role, dealing with creatures I never understood."
"Oh." Pete shrugged. "Well, you're doing a pretty good job. I probably would have forgotten something if I hadn't had to explain everything to you yesterday!" He grinned at me, and I had to smile back.
Now, I'm fairly sure that you'll all just love me to pieces if I tell you about every little thing which happens over the next few days. Days just full of me and Pete going from town to town. Not much happening at all. Yes, and then you'll just quietly go away without me noticing until I find myself all alone.
On the first day of our journey, Pete and I didn't see much. I thought I heard a Pidgey, but it was just that Wind again. As we walked, I got to know Pete a bit better. His father is a retired Trainer, and he had grown up with some of his father's Pokémon. It seemed that Pete's dad had offered to give his son a Pokémon before we left, but Pete had refused. I didn't probe any further, I suppose Pete had personal reasons for this. I told Pete a little bit about myself, that I had kept a garden, and had tried to avoid people as much as I could until Zephyr came along.
We reached Fern Rock, a rather pleasant town, during the late afternoon. It is considerably smaller than Virescent City, and according to Pete, only had one Nurse at the Center. On a patch of grass at the edge of the town, I had my first battle.
"Oh, your old granny wouldn't let you go on your own?" A taunting voice laughed. Pete whirled, his face darkening furiously. I turned myself, and saw a paste-faced boy smiling insolently at us. His black hair and dark eyes only heightened the total colorlessness of his skin. A pair of smaller boys stood a bit behind the speaker—cronies, I assumed.
"She is not my grandmother," Pete replied, and it seemed that he only barely had a grip on his temper. "She is my friend and we are traveling together."
"Oh really," the boy laughed. "And I suppose she's training Pokémon as well." The two cronies laughed nervously at the joke. Pete's face turned a bright red, but I touched his shoulder and shook my head.
"I'll handle this," I told him, then turned my attention to the brat. "I am a Trainer," I told the boy, "if you wanted to make anything of it?"
The boy was speechless for a moment, then covered his surprise with some blustering. I sighed inwardly. "Oh? A Trainer are you?" He scoffed.
One of the cronies, a curly-haired mouse of a boy, stepped forward a bit. "Micto is Fern Rock's best Trainer," he said. The other bustled up next to him.
"Micto has beaten a Gym Leader!" I glanced at Pete, who shrugged.
"Well, I'm a new Trainer," I admitted. "But I'm sure Micto is a big boy, and he has his own tongue." The two boys backed up a few steps when the boy glared at them. Micto looked like a bully.
"Old woman, I bet I could beat you easily. How many Pokémon do you have?"
"Four," I answered truthfully. Micto barely concealed his contempt.
"I have seven!" I decided that rolling my eyes would be a bad idea. "But I think I could defeat you without any trouble! Three of mine against all of yours."
I blinked. This boy seemed a bit overconfident. "I can't accept your challenge," I replied. "Not unless it's fair." Pete hissed at me, but I ignored him. "Four against four?"
Micto's accomplices backed up even further. Micto laughed. "Fine then, Grandma. Four against four. I doubt I'll need my fourth one." He snatched a Pokéball from his belt and threw it to the ground. "Go!" I was already reaching for Flim-Flam's ball when a Pikachu appeared.
I could hear Pete trying to squelch a laugh. I suppose he didn't think much of Pikachu, but I had heard that they can be pretty good if they're trained right. This Pikachu looked like it might be a tough opponent. I tossed out the Sudowoodo's Pokéball, remembering to catch it when it automatically returned to my hand.
"Flim-Flam, use a Rock Throw!" Stones and gravel appeared out of nowhere, headed for the Pikachu.
"Agility!" The Pikachu was suddenly a yellow blur, avoiding each rock.
"Try a Mimic, and another Rock Throw!" I told the fake tree. Suddenly the Sudowoodo was as swift as the yellow rodent. When the rocks appeared again, several actually hit the Pikachu.
"Thundershock!" Micto ordered. The Pikachu shook itself, and furiously sent bolts of electricity at the stone plant. Flim-Flam didn't seem to like being zapped, but it didn't look like they hurt him too much. Micto seemed to realize this, and ordered a series of Quick Attacks. I, in return, told Flim-Flam to keep using Rock Throw.
The small Pikachu really couldn't do much damage to the rock-hard Flim-Flam, and I felt sorry for the poor creature. Finally it just couldn't avoid a huge boulder and was sent flying. Micto was rather angry about it, but he saw that the Pikachu could not possibly be expected to fight any more.
Next, he sent out a Zubat. As he told it what to do, Flim-Flam attacked with a Rock Throw. The Zubat managed to dodge the rocks, then shot a Supersonic at the Sudowoodo. Flim-Flam looked like he was all right, so I told him to use a Mimic. The fake tree successfully confused the Zubat, who in turn managed to confuse Flim-Flam. Every attack we ordered often backfired! The Zubat managed to stay in control of the fight by Leeching Flim-Flam every time it could keep from hurting itself.
Finally, Flim-Flam shook off the confusion. He was nearly beat, and I was worried that he wouldn't manage to defeat the Zubat. "Flim-Flam!" I shouted, "Use a Flail!" The tree nodded, then attacked the purple bat in a Last Stand attempt to take it down with him. The Zubat, still woozy from the confusion it had suffered, didn't try to evade the waving branches quickly enough, and fell to the ground. Flim-Flam collapsed with it.
((I think I'd like to meet the local Nurse,)) he admitted, and passed out. I recalled him to his Ball, promising that he'd see the Nurse soon. The Zubat was gone, and Micto was debating his next choice. I sent out Nectaar, and at that Micto threw out a third Pokéball. It was a Vulpix.
The small red fox daintily emerged from her ball, and sat licking a paw while waiting for her orders. My Oddish looked curiously at the Vulpix, then glanced at me, wondering what to do. I was frozen.
"Sulia! What's wrong?" Pete tugged at my sleeve and I shook myself out of my shock.
"It's a—Vulpix." I shook my head, and told Nectaar to use a Poisonpowder.
The Vulpix was already headed toward the Oddish, and I belatedly realized that Micto had told her to use an Ember. The Oddish leapt to the side, avoiding the pillar of fire, and sprinkled the fox with a glowing powder. She sneezed and shook her head. Micto had her perform another Ember, and I told Nectaar that a Vine Whip would be a good idea.
Normally, Oddish don't learn Vine Whip, but I did specialize in grass TM's! The attack caught the Vulpix by surprise, but unfortunately, it didn't last long. A third Ember hit Nectaar squarely, and the Oddish was crisped. I recalled her and fumbled for another Pokéball. I threw it without looking at it, and Zephyr appeared. The pink turnip leapt high and twirled to the ground, happy to be loose from her ball for a time.
The Vulpix was looking a bit unsteady. The poison seemed to be working.
"Just keep using Ember. It's another plant, they're weak to fire!" Micto looked rather smug. His Vulpix was poisoned, but by no means out of the fight.
"Zephyr, use Splash. Get it wet, that might give you an advantage!" Micto laughed. The agile Hoppip avoided the attack easily, and a sprinkling of water hit the Vulpix. She didn't appreciate being dampened and shot another Ember at Zephyr. "Keep it up! Don't let the fire hit you!"
"Splash doesn't do ANYTHING Grandma!" Micto laughed again." I ignored him. The Vulpix continued to aim Embers at Zephyr, who dodged them before they could hit her. With luck, being sick and wet would drain the Vulpix's strength. It was taking a while though!
Zephyr was singed by the edge of a flame. She was getting tired. "Use a Synthesis to regain health!" I exclaimed, realizing that this attack would be nearly useless once the sun went down. Praying that the battle didn't last that long, I watched the Hoppip absorb the weakening sunlight. With a new spring to her steps, her leaps became astounding. And the Vulpix continued to get weaker. Micto didn't seem to notice that her flames were smaller and not as bright.
Then she collapsed. Caught totally by surprise, Micto stepped toward her, then recalled her to a Pokéball. He looked rather angry, and he seemed to be saying things under his breath. His cronies ran.
He threw out his fourth ball. I called Zephyr back. She had defeated the Vulpix only because it had already been poisoned and was agile enough to avoid being hurt, but I doubted she had a chance against something fresh. The only option I had was Scoot, and I hoped that whatever Micto sent out, that it wouldn't be something that could knock out the Hoot-hoot in one hit!
Micto's ball hit the ground and flashed. The red laser coalesced into a… Metapod. I quickly identified the Pokémon, remembering the yearly Butterfree visits to my garden. Micto's cronies exchanged glances, then they backed up even further than they had before. Scoot came out of his ball and landed on one foot, as usual. He shifted feet, taking in the situation, then saw his opponent. His red eyes narrowed and he hopped toward the immobile Pokémon.
"Harden," Micto moaned, closing his eyes.
"Scoot, come back here." I just couldn't do it.
"What?"
"This is ridiculous," I replied. "Bug Pokémon are weak to Flying attacks. And with only Harden, your Metapod can only defend itself. Scoot has been resting all day, and I don't think he'll have much trouble getting past those defenses. This is totally unfair."
"But—but" Micto sputtered.
"But nothing. Get your Vulpix to the PokéCenter. Show me how to get there while you're at it." I recalled Scoot, and Micto returned his Metapod to its Ball.
"Well. Um," Micto sighed. "Okay, the Center is this way." He turned and walked away. I hurried to catch up, and Pete followed me.
"If you have seven Pokémon," I asked while we were walking, "why didn't you use another one?"
Micto winced. "Well ma'am," I suppose my kindness had made him remember what little manners he had, "the other three are a Kakuna and two Magikarp. And they are all much weaker than my Metapod. I hoped that if you had something weak, that it might be able to hold out long enough to evolve." I nodded. Such strategy didn't occur often, but I had heard stories of Gym Leaders who did just that, to impress wandering Trainers.
"That was an amazing battle," Pete exclaimed as he caught up. "I never thought I'd see a Hoppip defeat a Vulpix!" Micto winced.
"I should have realized that after a few tries, she couldn't possibly hit that thing. It's so fast!" The pale boy sighed. "I guess I didn't see past the fact that a Fire Type usually has a huge advantage over a Grass Type."
"Hindsight is always the clearest sight," I said, in my best impression of a Wise Old Lady.
"Boy is that true!" Pete laughed.
