TEEN: The Long Walk

[Beth Pavell]

Bulbagarden Forums Presents

For the Benefit of several Esteemed Readers

The Long Walk

Or: My Travel Companion, and Other Pokémon

A Coming-of-Age Story of Adventure, Friendship and being a Young Adult in the World of Pokémon

As told by Miss Bethany Pavell​

For Joshua Cook and Evelina Joy, it's a long walk to the Silver Conference - but neither trainer is battling to be the very best. A coming-of-age story of adventure, friendship, and being a young adult in the world of Pokémon.

Welcome one, welcome all, to The Long Walk. This story is intended to be a more mature take on the ubiquitous journey fic, with strong overtures of slice-of-life. The story follows two young adults as they embark on their trainer journey through Johto.

A couple of things I’d like to say at the outset: first of all, thank you to all you readers who leave comments, they are appreciated. And that includes those comments from readers who don’t think they’re much good at reviewing. I read them all, I think about them all, and I frequently refer back to them while I’m writing and editing chapters. Secondly, thanks to my beta reader AetherX, who always seems to manage to find time to read my drafts between projects.

Spoiler: Rated TEEN for:

• Infrequent strong language
• Moderate violence - Mainly in the context of pokémon battles, including descriptions of blood and wounds
• Substance use - consumption of alcohol in moderation
• Moderate suggestive themes - infrequent references to nudity, sexual behaviour, and sexual innuendo

Table of Contents

Prologue - The Green Road into the Trees (Below)

Part One: Growing Out

Act I: Southward Bound
Chapter One - One Who Thinks to Travel
Chapter Two - A Real Trainer
Chapter Three - The Girl from Cherrygrove City
Chapter Four - Over Hill, Under Hill
Chapter Five - Matters of Grace

Act II: Star-shaped Flowers
Chapter Six - Azalea Town
Chapter Seven - Better Judgements
Interlude - The Beast of the Sea
Chapter Eight - Two is Company
Chapter Nine - Scary Shiny Glasses
Chapter Ten - The Question

Act III: The Ilex Forest
Chapter Eleven - Forging a Friendship
Chapter Twelve - Heart of the Heartwoods
Chapter Thirteen - Deep in the Deepwoods
Interlude - Old Maud
Chapter Fourteen - Comfort Zones
Chapter Fifteen - Gotta Catch 'Em All
Chapter Sixteen - Future Sight

Act IV: Zephyr Badge
Chapter Seventeen - Violet City
Chapter Eighteen - Cool Zephyr
Interlude - Young Marisa

Act V: A Tournament of Tigerlilies
Chapter Nineteen - Moonlight, Electric Night
Chapter Twenty - Oddling Townie
Chapter Twenty One - The Girl from Goldenrod City
Chapter Twenty Two - Evelina of Victory
Chapter Twenty Three - Summer is i'comin In
Chapter Twenty Four - The Balance of Power
Chapter Twenty Five - Evelina's Anvil
Chapter Twenty Six - Psyshock
Chapter Twenty Seven - The Twin-Tailed Cat
Chapter Twenty Eight - St. Elmo's Fire
Chapter Twenty Nine - Invicta
Chapter Thirty - The Wailing of the Gulls

Part Two - Growing Up

Act I: The Bells of Prospero
Chapter Thirty One - The Port of Crashing Waves
Chapter Thirty Two - Shipwreck
Chapter Thirty Three - Nowhere Girl
Chapter Thirty Four - The Long Midnight
Interlude - Two Perspectives

Act II: Maelstrom
Chapter Thirty Five - When It Alteration Finds
Chapter Thirty Six - Alone
Chapter Thirty Seven - Rejection
Chapter Thirty Eight - The Wandering Barque
Chapter Thirty Nine - Low Tide
Chapter Forty - Flood and Flame
Chapter Forty One - Every Day, In Every Way
Chapter Forty Two - Have You Noticed I've Been Gone

Act III: Green Hill Country
Chapter Forty Three - Gym of Steel
Chapter Forty Four - Windblown from Sinnoh

Special Chapters
Seventeen - A Work of Craft
Twenty Three - Into The Wild

The Long 'Verse
A Da Vinci Smile
Kanto: There and Back Again

Prologue – The Green Road into the Trees (Version 1.6)

I.

I, me.

It’s the first thought I have, every time I return to my Poké Ball. Like waking up from a dream. I, me. Bulbasaur. It is both who and what I am.

It is always peaceful, here. Like waking up from a dream, I remember the things I did in the physical world. If I chose to, I could push against the circles of the Poké Ball, struggle against the lock that held me in. But I never do. Instead, sometimes I perceive some of what goes on outside. I can hear my trainer, talking to me.

I, me.

I.

*​

The rider’s bicycle made another undignified clank as it bounced through a pothole. Cold rainwater splashed up, drenching the cyclist’s legs. He cursed vaguely, swerving onto the pavement to avoid getting sprayed by a passing van. It was a typically indecisive Mulberry Town day in March, vacillating between winter and spring. It had rained cold and miserable for most of the day, till in the late afternoon the clouds broke and clement spring re-materialised.

Joshua Cook cycled down Coldfield high street on his way to the Cinder Bank Bathhouse. He was travelling from his home in Saltwells, on the eastern end of Mulberry Town’s thirty-mile urban sprawl. For over a hundred years, this town had been the beating industrial heart of Johto, a town that was black with smoke by day and red with flame by night. Once, she had mined coal, forged steel, launched zeppelins and built railways. With generations of industry came a pantheon of esa, spirits of steel and soot and ringing hammers.

Inevitably, the town went into decline. The potency of the town’s pulsing industry would not last forever. It was generally held that the town’s prosperity had waned during the seventies, but the rust had begun to set in well before then. Most of the industry had disappeared, leaving behind empty factories, derelict foundries, and the gods they had created.

Josh dropped back into the bike lane as the 12:27 from Saltwells moved off. The tram was the only really new thing on the high street. Modern Mulberry was as threadbare and patched as an old sock, with pretty much the same charm. Coldfield had certainly seen better days. Both the pubs had closed, half the cafés were boarded up – ah, but the pawnshop was still going strong, along with the ‘All-Night Tailor’ that was fooling no-one. At least the ethnic stores are doing alright, Josh thought. He passed by the Native Orange haberdashery where he got his few turbans and turned off onto Cinder Bank.

Cinder Bank was lined with a queue of linden trees, scarred and grotesque from too much pollarding, truncated main boughs like clubbed fists sprouting bristly thickets of younger branches. So much for urban beautification. Bad-tempered Townie pidgey cawed down at him from telegraph wires. As usual dozens of them had gathered in a squabbling flock around the Bathhouse. Josh preferred to believe it was because they appreciated one of the few buildings in Mulberry that was actually attractive; a handsomely symmetrical palazzo-style building, with neat rows of broad arched windows, enclosed by a palisade of wrought-iron railings. It was attractive in a modest sort of way, like snowdrops blooming in an old churchyard.

Josh had to ruin the view by parking his bike in the rack at the side of the building. And double-locking it, because in this town someone would still try to steal a junk-cycle like his. Graham was waiting under the portico, flexing his hands in those absurd fingerless driving gloves of his.

“There he is!” Graham said cheerfully.

“Grey. How bin ye?” Josh replied, shaking his hand.

“Oh, ye know. How’s it going, brother?”

Brother. They were cousins, really, though he’d never heard Grey call anyone else that. They had grown up like brothers, each the only son of their respective family. They were in the same academic year at school, the same club for five years, too.

“Like a blashy weekend,” Josh replied grimly.

“Ah. I ay seen ye naked in a while,” Grey joked.

“Thass because you’ve bin avoiding it,” he said flatly. “It’s still your turn te buy the beers.”

Inside, Josh caught a glimpse of himself in the shower room mirror, and for a fleeting moment it was like looking at a stranger with an unshiftable resting bitch face. The stranger in the mirror glanced sullenly back at him – he had calm, dark eyes set in an oval face, looking out through wire-rimmed glasses bent in and out of shape from long use. A head of tightly-curled black hair framed his features, half-hiding his ears. The whole face looked like it wasn’t getting enough sleep.

“Rather you than me,” Josh told him.

The Bathhouse’s main bath usually had a distinct air of faded grandeur to it. It didn’t help that a palazzo-style, Alto Marean design for a hot spring bath was out of date when it was new. Today the wavering steam was backlit by late afternoon sun slanting through the big arch windows, turning it into a luminous fog.

“Tafl?” Grey said.

“Yeah.”

The chequered tafl gameboards were painted onto pedestals that rose up out of the bath itself, so you could soak in the bath and play at the same time. The waters reached up to Josh’s chest. He started as black, the attackers, as usual. Black started lined up on all four sides of the board, white arranged in a circle in the centre.

“So. How’s work in the blood lab?” he asked.

“Aha, well. They a-wanted te send me down to Eccleshot hospital.”

“The one down in Cherrygrove?”

“Thass the one. More dollar in my pocket, but how am I supposed te get into Cherrygrove for eight in the morning? If we had a Magnet line te Cherrygrove things might be different …”

“If.”

“If,” Grey concurred. The proposal for a branch line had been bouncing fruitlessly round Parliament for a few years now. It would open up a lot of opportunities for Mulberry, but Cherrygrove didn’t want it and the Treasury didn’t want to pay for it.

“Well, I’m a-stuck for now, like the rest of us,” Grey said. “Anyhow. You seen any of the others?”

“Grey, I haven’t seen you in weeks and ye live four doors down.”

“Oh. Well, remember Dragons?”

“Oh, um … Sān Jí Lóng? Used te see her a lot at Uni.”

“She’s a-working at the Poké Ball factory now.”

“Smoke and fire!” Josh cursed, affronted. “I didn’t even know Silph were hiring!”

“They’re not.”

“She is a lucky dragon. Three months I watched their recruitment page!” he karped with as much grace as he could muster. “Thass a job for life, that is.”

“Mm. Silph never lay anyone off,” Grey agreed, moving a piece. “She had the most adorable ass.”

“I suppose,” Josh said vaguely, contemplating the board. “I liked Jí Lóng. An adorable steel lotus.”

“Ye have odd predilections, bro. You cock,” he added amiably, realising his king was trapped.

Josh raised his eyebrow as a kind of victory gesture. It wasn’t over yet. A full game of tafl was two rounds, one playing as black and one as white.

“I hear you’re a-going to be a pokémon trainer,” Grey said, resetting the board.

“Mmhm.”

“Dude, what changed? Ye never showed any interest in training before. Natural history, maybe.”

What changed? Essentially it had started back in high school. In his fifth year, the careers advisor had convinced him to pursue Modern Kalosian at sixth form. Her reasoning made sense – plenty of companies did business with Kalos, she’d said, and they all needed Kalosian speakers. Two years later, he went on to study Kalosian at Mulberry University. Pretty damn successfully, actually. Academically, anyway. Studying in a class stuffed exclusively with Townie girls made for an awkward time fitting in. That more or less described his year abroad in Lumiose as well, come to think of it.

His careers advisor was right, after a fashion. The problem was that the companies hiring fresh-faced, linguistically capable graduates were all based in Goldenrod or Olivine City. Living in Goldenrod was expensive enough; moving there, a small fortune for a working-class boy from Saltwells. He managed to make some money by continuing his university job as a bike courier, but the hours were very inconsistent and the pay thoroughly unimpressive anyway.

For several years now Josh had been selling homemade jewellery online. It was a hobby, really, something he’d practised at school and started to sell for the hell of it. Wood, aluminium and copper were his favourite materials, but it was the semi-precious stuff that sold best. It wasn’t a lot by anyone’s measure, but ‘Metal Earth Jewellery’ became the much-needed supplementary income to pay for pokémon training.

Josh realised he had been thinking rather than answering the question. “I need a fresh start, Grey. There’s not as much demand for postmen like me. More competition, less money – I swear, the slow internet in this town is keeping us in business.”

He repositioned a spearman slightly to discourage any thoughts of a sudden rampage through his circle. “Pass or fail, back at university it was all down to me, ye know? On the job market it’s really all down te the idiot half-reading your CV.”

Grey sniggered in agreement.

“Pokémon training is more like uni. Ergo the fresh start, brother o’ mine.”

“Look, I see ye point. But, well …” He paused to select his words, “remember Collier? After two months he gives up with just two Badges te show for it. How much dollar did that cost him?”

“Collier would rather smoke weed than train,” Josh said flatly. “He didn’t lose money, he wasted it.”

“Ah. He always was a lazy trainer,” Grey said. “Te be fair, there’s a lot ye can be doing with a set of Gym Badges.”

“Ah.”

Grey captured a couple of spearmen with a thane. “What dun ye dad think of this?”

“He’s got a cob on him, you know what he’s like. He seems te think I’m a-planning some sort of holiday. And about twice a day he repeats his objections.”

“Mm. That’s Uncle Ad.”

“Anyway, now he’s a-complaining I’m not at the Battle Club enough. With what time? If I’m not on my bike I’m a-threading bloody bracelets!” He passed a hand over his eyes. “Tired of the damn argument.”

They both went quiet for a while, concentrating on the game.

“Whenabouts you leaving?” Grey asked.

“About a week’s time.”

“Listen, bro. Is it worth doing a fortnight’s training afore ye go?”

“I could manage it,” Josh admitted. “I could put in a week at the Battle Club, catch some Townie pokémon. But honestly, I want te get started.”

“Whatever you say, brother,” Grey said. He frowned at the board, realisation dawning that Josh’s king would escape in two moves. “Oh, you cock!”

*​

A chilly breeze sighed across the canal. Josh was beginning to think he should’ve worn his jumper. His bicycle churned a knurled line through the mud of the towpath, rattling occasionally when it rolled over an old brick. The canal was hemmed by the silent brick walls of century-old factories, urban fortresses crenellated with snarled razor wire and bladed fences. About half were abandoned, windows smashed, walls graffitied. After half a mile the woodland edge replaced the industrial estate. It wasn’t much of a wood, about ninety unlovely acres struggling out of the urban sprawl like weeds from between flagstones. Ragged bits of old police tape clung to the odd tree. The bones of derelict saltworks haunted its ivy-strangled depths.

He paused on the wharf in front of the workshops. From here the view opened up as the land headed downhill for several furlongs. An iron footbridge crossed the canal right at the brow. Just beyond the bridge the canal fell twenty feet through a pair of locks, running straight on past the Weepinbell pub on the hither bank, till it reached Number Five and Six Lock. By the locks, right opposite the pub, was Five-and-Six Cottage.

Home. Walls freshly painted white, it gleamed in the intermittent sun. Five-and-Six had been a lockkeeper’s cottage, mended and modernised ad hoc over the decades. No nidoran burrows were tolerated under the garden wall. Someone with an eye for such things would notice the recently repointed mortar around the chimney brickwork. Josh had helped to repaint, repoint, and evict nidoran, whether he liked it or not.

“You’m a-gonna inherit this house one day, so you’m a-gonna learn how te look after it,” was Dad’s usual refrain.

Home had never been anywhere else. He could vaguely remember when Linda had moved into the Weepinbell when they were … how old were they? Eight? Nine? For more than ten years their bedroom windows had been directly opposite one another, hardly fifteen yards apart. Almost every day, Linda waved ‘good morning’ from her window. Almost every day they’d return home from school together, sharing his bike, Linda riding on the luggage rack they’d ended up converting into a proper seat.

It suddenly occurred to him that he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been looking at this canal. There had been that year in Lumiose, that’s all, a brief pause in twenty-one years of seeing the same view every morning. The evening was quiet. Quiet enough to hear the freight train clattering by beneath the aqueduct far upstream. It seemed like his mind was playing tricks on him, because he could see himself cycling home from school, Linda riding sidesaddle behind him. He looked like he was about fourteen despite the sixth-year pin glinting on his lapel – Linda had her share of teenage awkwardness, her body caught halfway between girl- and womanhood. The memory was like a ghost on the landscape.

“Every road has memories of the people who travel it.” Mum had been in an odd mood when she’d said that. He sometimes thought about that on the familiar paths. A canal was a road doubled, the waterway and towpath together. Did it remember him cycling home from school with Linda? Did it remember Hallows Eve barbecues at the pub? Lazy summer days spent lying in the grass, monochrome winter mornings? Did it remember when he and Grey brought together eight Uni friends and built the longboat they named Iron King, right here in workshop #6? They’d sailed her down to the annual Regatta to terrorise the Tri-Universities teams. He imagined the spirit of the river telling the canal how they’d rammed Goldenrod Imperial’s Gold Standard and left her sinking in their wake, and her cox screaming with rage.

Perhaps a road could miss people, too.

*​

A lonely peace dwelled on the grassy summit of Hangman’s How. The town below was a distant murmur, the loudest sounds on the hill the crisp breeze and Josh’s footfalls. A skeletal, twiggy yew tree stood vigil on the high meadow, untroubled by butcher’s chainsaws – who would dare fell a yew? It felt good to have mud clinging to his boots again. It had rained during the night. To Josh’s nose the rich, vital smells of damp earth and leaf mould were like Aromatherapy.

He stopped in the shadow of the yew, and looked back at Mulberry Town. Usually the town looked like a grey-brown smudge in the lee of the mountains west of Route 45. This morning, the air was uncommonly clear after last night’s rain, the details of the world painted sharp and lucid. He could even clearly see the factories at Blakenall, koffing bobbing around the chimneys like peas in boiling water.

The path up to the How started unobtrusively behind a supermarket, clambering up the slope and sinking away again down into a deep, green holloway on the far side. Close above the trees laced their bare branches together, the path below winding away through the arboreal tunnel. Small, white Anemone nemorosa flowers starred the woodland floor, blukberry vines were groping madly for the light. A male furret scrambled in earnest pursuit of a female. The sap was rising.

Josh found himself hesitating, unconsciously shifting his weight from foot-to-foot. The gaunt yew leaned eastwards, towards the town. West, the holloway disappeared invitingly down the How.

It’s a dangerous business, going out your door. If you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might get swept off to.

Josh shrugged, and followed the green road into the trees.

 

[Beth Pavell]

Spoiler: Version History

1.3 : Altered dialogue layout in line with common fanfiction convention
1.4 : Removed reference to Eve's clumsiness
1.5 : Josh's backstory revised - now worked as a courier during University, sold homemade jewellery to supplement income. Added reference to poor employment prospects in Mulberry Town. Added Mulberry Town history in second scene. Eve's temper less fiery, more snappish. Battle and end of scene revised
1.6 : Description of Josh's clothes revised
1.7 : Revised some of Josh's dialogue
1.8 : Rewrite. Removed conversation with Christine Joy. Revised backstory for Bulbasaur. Revised description of Route 30. Rewritten battle between Evelina and Josh

Part One - Growing Out​

Chapter One – One Who Thinks to Travel (Version 1.8)

Well, I can’t go back now.

It was before ten in the morning, and the Pokémon Centre was near-deserted. The sky outside was just clouding over and most of the trainers that had stayed the night had already headed west towards Violet City. The Pokémon Centre was relatively small, still too big, really, for the quiet trails east of Route 30. A traveller could easily walk from sunrise to sunset between Mulberry and Route 30 and meet no-one. Josh had barely spoken to anyone in four days. It might have been lonely – perhaps it was lonely – but it wasn’t like he was inundated with friends back home.

Josh leaned against the front desk, vaguely wondering how you were supposed to feel, out on the road with pokémon for the first time. He’d hardly bounced out of bed on his tenth birthday with dreams of Championship stardom.

“Yo. What d’you get?” someone said.

Josh gave him a startled look. It felt a bit odd for someone to address him unprompted. The kid was unnecessarily wearing a large pair of opaque sunglasses and a scruffy teenage attempt at a goatee. A battery of cheap rings perforated one ear. He probably hadn’t bounced out of bed either.

“Sorry, what?” Josh said.

“Your pokémon. What starter did you get?”

“Oh. Bulbasaur.”

“Cyndaquil. Got to be, yeah? Typhlosion’s just brütal.”

Why does he pronounce it with an umlaut?

“Wait, bulbasaur’s not a Johto starter. You from Kanto?”

“No. My dad knows a Kantonian breeder.”

He remembered the day Dad brought his starter home. He’d come in cradling a pokémon, a tiny little thing, that he deposited gently on the living room carpet. Back then Bulbasaur was scarcely more than five inches tall at the shoulder. He took a couple of uncertain little steps, blinking up at him with innocent eyes that looked too big for his face. Appearing to come to a decision, he clambered into Josh’s lap and promptly went to sleep.

It wouldn't be the last time the infant Bulbasaur did something like that. Apparently he’d decided to imprint on Josh, for want of a better term. No-one knew why. Eventually, to make him Bulbasaur’s de jure owner, they’d re-registered his Poké Ball to Josh’s trainer licence.

“Joshua Cook? Your bulbasaur is ready.”

“What dun ye be a-saying? I mean,” he said, realising his accent had slipped out. “Sorry, Nurse Joy, what did you say?”

“I’ve finished examining your bulbasaur,” Joy repeated patiently. “Fundamentally he’s healthy – very healthy, for a house pokémon, actually. If he’s going to be battling, he’ll need a lifestyle change. Plenty of light exercise, and as the weather gets warmer he should be getting most of his food by basking.”

Josh nodded dutifully, beginning to think he ought to be taking notes on this. His thoughts turned again to the worry that training a pokémon would be a lot harder than merely raising one. The last thing he wanted to do was to call it quits and go home. One way or another his colours were nailed high up to the mast.

*​

Later that morning, Josh swung his bag over his shoulders and left the Pokémon Centre. The sky had turned into a flat grey blanket, feigning innocence, as if Johto was above throwing down a surprise hailstorm in March. The map told him the closest Pokémon Gym was in Violet City, an easy three or four day’s walk from here, but he didn’t quite feel ready for Violet yet. Josh didn’t like cities very much. He always felt more at home around trees and woodland.

This half-forgotten trainer's trail east of Route 30 was a refreshing change from Mulberry Town, in that particular. On the left-hand side was a wood of smooth-limbed beeches, their naked branches full of pidgey that fluttered down to scratch about in the dirt; on the right stood a long colonnade of rowans, probably planted by some well-meaning local authority. Josh was much less fond of rowan, in spite of its talismanic nature. By early summer it would put forth scuds of semen-white flowers, their sickly-sweet smell wafting on the wind. He favoured glossy, prickly, defiant holly as a talisman tree.

Spring was gathering pace – Josh could practically feel the earth awakening beneath his boots. Bulbasaur probably felt it too, stoically trundling alongside in deference to Nurse Joy’s advice about exercise. It was a good day for walking, especially with the outfit he’d developed after years of long walks.

Good, sturdy boots, the kind that could withstand a geodude being dropped on them, he wouldn't compromise on that. Sturdy jeans too, black as an irrelevant preference. Like many trainers, he intended to carry his occupied Poké Balls on his belt. He adjusted the backpack on his shoulders. It was handmade from hazel and wickerwork, with a fabric lining for waterproofing. A parting gift from Mum, and an easy construction for her. The March weather was still a bit chilly, and Josh was glad of his Mulberryshire wool jumper. Black, like his jeans. Or at least, it was supposed to be – long wear had turned it iron-grey. Over the top of it he wore an old brown jacket, partly to keep the wind out, but also to keep his maps, firesteel and knife on hand.

The sound of something charging through the wood broke his reverie. Up ahead the path veered off to the left, round the foot of a hill that sloped up towards the south. Josh stopped up short, and listened. The typically sparse beech undergrowth muffled the noise, but he could pick out two sets of sounds – a faint, frantic scurrying and someone running flat-out. A pack of rattata burst from the treeline, desperately trying to carry a backpack between them. Hardly a moment later a furious girl followed, trying to pull something from her pocket – a Poké Ball, maybe.

“Drop it or I pull your tails off!” she screamed. Josh seized a rock and hurled it at the gang, by sheer luck clobbering one clean in the face. The rattata promptly scattered like little purple comets. The girl retrieved her backpack with a mixture of triumph and embarrassment, shyly throwing him a grateful look. She was somewhere in her early twenties, a little taller than him, with a willowy figure. She was wearing a burgundy coat with coffee brown trousers, a battery of pouches on her belt, and hiking boots on her feet.

“Oh gods, I can't believe they actually managed to steal my backpack,” she said, still acutely embarrassed. “Who knew wild rattata could work together so well?”

“Damn rattata,” Josh agreed, distracted.

“Why are you looking at me like that,” she said resignedly.

“Your surname isn't Joy, by any chance, is it?”

And there it was. For though her dress sense and temper were nothing like the nurses who so diligently ran Pokémon Centres everywhere, this girl looked exactly like a young Joy. The same bright blue eyes, the same shape of the face, the same hairstyle and colour. Her expression, however, was now of annoyance.

“Yes, I am a Joy, no I'm not in a Pokémon Centre, yes I am aware it's unusual,” she sighed. “Any questions?” she added sarcastically.

“Not at this time, m'lady,” Josh said, deadpan.

The young Joy stood and glared at him, hands on hips. Then she noticed Bulbasaur sat beside him. “Hey, you have a pokémon! Why didn't you just battle the rattata instead of blindly throwing rocks?”

“I … don't know,” Josh confessed. “It didn't occur to me to battle with Bulbasaur.”

Joy regarded him crossly for a moment. “You are a strange trainer,” she said matter-of-factly. “I suppose the least I can do is share some of my supplies.”

*​

Well, making new friends was supposed to be one of the joys of adventure. And here he was, making new friends with a Joy, apparently. Seated on the tussocky grass at the edge of the wood, Josh was beginning to notice something else distracting about this strange Joy. A good-natured observer might call her eating ‘enthusiastic’. Josh watched with a kind of vague annoyance as she tore apart a cheese sandwich like she hadn’t eaten in days. By sharp contrast he just chewed indifferently on a granola bar.

It felt appropriate, at least, to start this journey in the green and gallant spring. It reminded him of a poem, something read in sixth form.

“Bearwas blostmum nimað, byrig fægriað,
wongas wlitigað, woruld onetteð;
ealle þa gemoniað modes fusne
sefan to siþe, þam þe swa þenceð,” he recited aloud.

“What?”

“Oh. Sorry,” Josh said, realising his attention had seriously wandered. “I haven’t really talked to anyone in a few days. I think I’m developing odd habits.”

Joy giggled, though not unkindly. “You never told me your name. Here. Have some fruit.”

“I'm fine, really. Cook, Joshua Cook, from Mulberry Town.”

“Don't be silly. You helped save this fruit,” Joy said between mouthfuls of cheese. “Mulberry Town, that's not a big place, is it?”

It is a big place, just not an important place, Josh thought, quite impressed that she managed to get such a coherent sentence out while simultaneously finishing what was left of her lunch. “I only know half of your name. What do I call you?”

“Evelina. Evelina Joy. Tea, at least?”

“I have my own, thanks. So what takes a Joy away from the Pokémon Centre?”

Evelina sipped at her tea and said nothing, giving him a piercing look.

“I'm taking the Gym challenge,” she said defensively. “It's not that I don't like looking after pokémon, I just don't want to be in a Pokémon Centre all my life!”

Josh shrugged indifferently, and watched Evelina defuse. “Well, technically I'm taking the Gym challenge too,” he said. “But it's not something I've been dreaming to do. Bulbasaur and I, we're just going to see where it takes us. So we're on the way to Azalea Town, I think. I heard there was a Gym there, and it's near to the forest. It sounds like as good a place as any to earn our first Badge.”

“Uh-huh. How about a battle then? One-on-one, no time limit,” Evelina said, drawing a Poké Ball from a pocket.

Josh automatically hesitated. True, Nurse Joy did say Bulbasaur was in good health, but his only real offensive move was Tackle. He wasn't sure if that was enough for a battle. “I don't know. I know a little battle theory, but honestly I'm a novice.”

“So you'll want a lot of practice, right?” Evelina said brightly.

That was a familiar refrain, although this time delivered from a pretty mouth. Blast it, Josh thought. She's not wrong.

“Alright,” he said. “Alright, let's battle.”

“Yay!” Evelina cried, jumping up and putting some distance between them to form an impromptu battlefield.

“Come on Bulbasaur,” Josh said, waving his pokémon forward. “Battle’s on!”

“Go Ledyba!” Evelina called. The five star pokémon hovered in front of Bulbasaur, waving her arms aggressively. Bulbasaur growled back at her and thumped the ground with a foot.

“How did you get a ledyba to battle away from the swarm?” Josh asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Evelina said. “Ledyba, Comet Punch!”

“Out of the way!” Josh yelled on impulse. Bulbasaur leapt aside as Ledyba buzzed by, throwing up dust in her wake. He charged, trying to Tackle her, but she was too quick for that and climbed out of reach.

“Swift! Swift!” Evelina ordered. Ledyba spun back round and squirted down a glowing stream of star-shaped rays – Bulbasaur yelled and tried unsuccessfully to dart from under the attack. Damnit! Nothing I can do about that, Josh thought with a growing swell of impotent frustration.

“Now Comet Punch!”

“Uh, Leech Seed!” Josh ordered in an attempt to change strategy. Ledyba plunged down at Bulbasaur and hastily swerved aside as the Leech Seed nearly struck her wing case. “Start moving, don't let Ledyba have it all her own way!”

Bulbasaur shuffled round in a circle, trying to keep his opponent in view. He came to a halt near to where his Leech Seed had landed, just as Ledyba attempted a third attack run. She came in fast and low; this time Bulbasaur stood his ground.

The quiescent Leech Seed suddenly snapped up, flailing tendrils groping madly. Ledyba panicked and threw herself into reverse. She buzzed something at her trainer in complaint.

“Hm. Quite cunning,” Evelina said. “Ok, Ledyba, show them your Supersonic!”

Ledyba opened her mouth wide, and a piercing ringing noise washed over Bulbasaur. Josh could just hear it too, a discordant squeal that set his teeth on edge. Ok, ok, I can figure this out.

“String Shot! Bind it tight!”

Bulbasaur launched a pair of thin, cord-like vines from the base of his bulb with a whistling whip-snap, the String Shots whirling off into empty air.

“What’s the matter with you?” Josh called. Oh, no. Supersonic. “Again, come on, concentrate!”

Whip-snap. Whip-snap. The String Shots dropped into the grass with paired thumps.

“This is our chance! Finish this with Comet Punch!” Evelina ordered in triumph. Her pokémon crashed into Bulbasaur with a barrage of punches from all six fists. Dazed from the attack, Bulbasaur could only retreat and try to turn away from the worst of the blows.

“That's enough, Ledyba. We've won,” Joy said. “I don't want to hurt Bulbasaur more than I need to.”

Josh sighed heavily and recalled his pokémon in a flash of pale red light. Easily defeated. Ledyba settled herself down on her trainer’s head.

“That’s a pretty crisp String Shot. Look what it did to that tree!” Evelina said cheerfully, offering her hand. Josh took it without a smile. A one-sided battle wasn’t at all what he’d had in mind, but she had won fair and square. Evelina gave him a strangely shrewd look, still holding on to his hand.

“The woods take on blossoms, the towns become fair,
fields grow beautiful, the world hastens on;
all these things urge on the eager mind,
the spirit to the journey, in one who thinks to travel,” she replied.

Next Chapter: A Real Trainer

 

[Beth Pavell]

Version History:

Spoiler

1.2 : Altered dialogue layout in line with common fanfiction convention
1.3 : Made some technical corrections
1.4 : Clarified geography - Union Wood Pokémon Centre clarified as the sole Pokémon Centre on Route 32
1.5 : Changed battle opponent from Spinarak to Wooper. Added reasoning for why Josh doesn't get on with his dad
1.6 : Revised some of Josh's dialogue

Chapter Two - A Real Trainer (Version 1.6)

“Alright, Bulbasaur, once more. Tackle!”

Bulbasaur spun to face his opponent, a lively wooper. Its trainer was a boy from one of the little villages in the outskirts of the highland forest. He was an impetuous young lad, full dire threats and boasts of power. It wasn't lost on Josh that he was battling a truant schoolboy. Apparently the lad had been waiting in the woodland ready to ambush a passing trainer. Josh watched Bulbasaur charge over the damp mat of conifer needles with a smile. Bulbasaur had grown used to battle in a matter of days and he seemed to like it.

“Tackles won't stop Wooper! You'll be sorry you came across me!” the boy yelled. He hopped excitedly from foot-to-foot. “Wooper, Water Gun!”

“Ignore it, Bulbasaur,” Josh said, arms folded.

Wooper hopped up onto a dead log and spat a pressurised stream of water at Bulbasaur. Undaunted, Bulbasaur charged through the spray; with a leap and a battle cry he knocked Wooper from its perch with a flying Tackle. Wooper tumbled off downhill and crashed into a pile of dead needles.

“That's victory, kid,” said Josh.

“No it's not! Wooper isn't done yet, he's still going!” the kid shouted back at him.

“Kid, it's not moving. You've lost this battle, let it rest.”

“We hadn't lost a battle in weeks till you came along! That pokémon isn't even from Johto! Wooper, return!”

Josh shook his head in disapproval, watching the truant boy run off downhill on the woodland path. He'd been getting that kind of response more often than he'd like these past few days. Some kid would challenge him and refuse to take no for an answer, then find some excuse to blame him for their loss. Bulbasaur was enjoying the exercise, but Josh wondered whether he would have got better practice following the south-eastern road instead.

Bulbasaur loped back up the hill, still full of energy. He rumbled his contentment as Josh rubbed his head and bulb. Josh had always thought his pokémon was special. Bulbasaur was greener than usual for his species, his bulb a rich mossy colour. The irregular olive markings on his face looked a bit like a sunburst exploding across his brow. Time out in the fresh air was working its subtle magic. Bulbasaur had never been an unhealthy pokémon, but the journey was certainly putting some definition on his muscles.

Josh sat himself down on a log, absent-mindedly feeding Bulbasaur nitrogen supplements. The journeying itself wasn't bad, at least, walking in the clean air among trees that had been left to grow as they pleased. Mulberry Town was not a tree-friendly place. Trees were automatically seen as safety hazards, to be crudely pollarded well before old age could rot their wooden hearts.

“But we haven't learnt enough, have we old friend?” he murmured.

“Bulba?”

“These battles am too easy for you. Ye've had no room to grow. Too easy for me, too …” Josh thought about the past few days, and all the times he and Bulbasaur had battled. They weren't battling trainers, they were battling kids and housewives with the family pokémon. Any serious trainer would still squash them flat.

“Do ye remember our battle against Joy a couple of weeks ago? With her ledyba? We could do with more battles like that.”

Bulbasaur leapt back and barked indignantly. “Don't be giving me that look. I know ye like to win but the Gym Leader's not going to be using pokémon like that wooper.”

Bulbasaur still looked uncertain. Josh heaved a sigh. His pokémon was easily pleased, that was the problem. It was his own fault. Pokémon tended to pick up on the habits of their trainers, and Josh had never been seriously competitive before.

“Come on. It's getting late – we had better get to the next Pokémon Centre before dusk.”

*​

Route 32 runs southwards from Violet City, following the sea on the east and skirting the hilly forests to the west. The coastward road is well-maintained but long, passing by fishing villages and travel lodges, but the western side is the route less travelled, splitting into hilly forest paths that connect isolated highland villages. The villagers cultivate small orchards and plantations, powered by their own little solar or wind generators. Through those pine forests Josh walked on, trying to find a path passing north of Union Cave. The sun slid down in the sky, bringing a cold evening just as the forest path gave way to a village lane, bordered on either side by razz berry canes. A middle-aged woman in rough gardener's wear stood gazing pensively at the canes.

“Excuse me?” Josh called. “Whereabouts is the Pokémon Centre?”

“You're a little late. The Centre here closed down ten months ago. The nearest Centre is down at Union Wood now,” she replied, still concentrating on the razz berries.

“What? But it's on the map …” Josh said, double-checking his Pokégear.

“I'm afraid news from here takes a while to reach the outside world. Maps tend to be a little out of date.”

Josh pinched the bridge of his nose. With a bit of imagination he could supplement what provisions he had with wild foods from the forest, but there was nothing that could be done about sleeping. “Fantastic. This poses a problem.”

The woman turned to look at him for the first time. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and a kind, quizzical expression. “You see, I was hoping to stay at the Pokémon Centre for the night. I have no tent and could have done with using the cafeteria …”

“You shouldn't try and stay out in the woods all night,” the woman replied, her face all concern. “You can stay at the house for the night; my husband will make room for you on the sofa.”

“Would you do that? I could pay you for the night,” Josh said.

“Oh, nonsense! I would not dream of it. You can call me Mary, by the way.”

“I'm most grateful for this,” said Josh as Mary led him down the lane, winding round to a house tucked away behind a prickly holly hedge. The house was a sprawl of extensions; some quite old, others obviously modern. The front door had a fresh spray of sugar pine fastened to it, opening to reveal a hallway as eclectic in age as the exterior. Mary led him inside, kindly but firmly insisting that he remove his boots. From the end of the hallway came an array of familial, domestic sorts of sounds. A man stepped round into the hallway, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. Tall, with a neat brown moustache, he threw Josh an appraising glance.

“Another one for dinner, Greg,” said Mary. “The lad was trying to stay at the old Centre.”

Greg gave an approving nod. “Come on through,” he said.

The kitchen was scrupulously clean, except where it was populated by Mary's two small daughters. They pestered Josh with questions all the way through a huge dinner despite their mother's admonishments. Josh answered them as best he could, trying not to seem aloof. Greg said little, but his wife couldn't be hospitable enough. Eventually Josh just had to ask the question that had been bothering him all through the meal.

“It's really nice of you to offer me all this, but how is it you have this much to spare?”

“The fridge broke again,” one of the girls piped up.

“Mouth closed when you chew, Stephanie,” said Greg in his slow voice. “Our solar generator hasn't been working as it should. Some mornings I wake to find the battery dead, and then there's nothing to power the irrigation lines. It's no big problem for an orchard owner, but we've got razz berries. They need their water.”

“We've been over the generator a hundred times. There's nothing wrong with it. And it's our electrical power for the house, too. The food needs eating, you feel free,” Mary said. Josh sat in thought for a moment. There was something vaguely familiar about the story.

“It happens in the mornings? So you've never found the battery dead halfway through the day?” Josh asked. Greg shook his head wearily. “I've an idea. I'll watch your generator tonight and see what happens. Call it payment for your kindness.”

“Oh no, you don't have to pay us, son,” Greg replied hastily. “I was going to do the same myself in any case.”

“Sir, I insist. At least I can be an extra pair of eyes.”

“Well, if I can't change your mind. We'll go out at ten.”

*​

It was nearing midnight, and Josh had been half-hidden behind a bush with Greg for nearly two hours. The solar generator lay seven or eight yards in front of them, a concrete shed at the centre of a web of wires. This far away from the cities, the moon cast just enough light to see by. Josh thought he could see shadows moving oddly in the treeline behind the shed. Was it a trick of the dim moonlight? Was it something moving?

Josh glanced back at Greg crouched stock-still beside him. He seemed to have a similar brand of quiet stoicism to his own father. Dad never said very much, at least not with words. No, Dad communicated as much with body language, with its own vast lexicon … except when Josh chose to do things his own way. It didn't matter whether it was about how best to sell his jewellery or whether pokémon training was a good idea – he would incessantly keep trying to cross swords over it. It was suffocating, and frankly one of the main reasons Josh couldn't stand to stay in Mulberry much longer.

The shadows under the trees were still moving oddly, as if trying to convince Josh that they had never moved at all … and then, low whines, drawn-out like stereo feedback, sounded out across the clearing.

“Did you hear that?” he whispered to Greg. Greg nodded slowly, trying to see where it came from. Then, shadows detached themselves from the treeline, gliding into the clearing. One hovered above the shed, silhouetted against the sky. It looked like a sphere with two crescent shapes on either side. “Magnemite!” Josh said in an excited whisper.

“Hey!” Greg roared, scaring Josh out his skin. In an almighty cracking of bush branches he jumped out of their hiding place, torch brandished at a trio of magnemite that were following the wires to the generator shed. They pivoted on the spot in alarm, staring inscrutably at Greg with their wide eyes, unblinking in the light of the torch beam. Then as suddenly as they had arrived, they scattered in different directions.

“You too, laggard!” Greg bellowed. There was one left, still hovering defiantly. Josh jumped up, filled with a strange excitement. He snatched at his belt for Bulbasaur.

“Go Bulbasaur! Time to battle!”

Out popped Bulbasaur in a blaze of light, blinking curiously at the magnemite hovering before him. Magnemite swooped; Bulbasaur leapt at the metallic pokémon without hesitation. The two collided in mid-air, Bulbasaur landing on his feet with a thump. Magnemite hesitated, as if startled.

“Another Tackle, go!” said Josh. He was confident Bulbasaur could win a battle of Tackle attacks. His pokémon duelled with the magnemite, trying to wear down its resolve as they leapt and dodged. The magnemite swooped in high from the left and it looked as though it might score a dead on hit. Josh opened his mouth to order Bulbasaur to dodge though he knew it would be too late.

Out from under Bulbasaur’s bulb whipped a green vine that swatted magnemite aside. Bulbasaur spun round with a growl, extruding another and seizing magnemite with both vines. Magnemite started to whine, growing quickly in volume and pitch till it passed beyond hearing. Supersonic! Josh thought. As he frantically tried to think of a way to counter-attack, he saw Bulbasaur slowly glare up at the magnemite in his grasp.

“Could it be …?” Josh whispered. With a deft flick of its vines Bulbasaur flung the magnemite into the generator shed. There was a sharp ping of metal on concrete – and then the magnemite was drifting to the ground, spinning drunkenly. Josh plunged his hand into a pocket, grabbing the first Poké Ball he found.

“Go!” he yelled, throwing it clumsily over arm. The ball spun erratically in flight, glanced off the dazed magnemite, sucked the dazed pokémon inside, fell to the ground. There was dead silence but for the sound of the Poké Ball rattling fretfully as the button light flashed on and off.

… ping!

“... I caught it.” Josh picked the now-silent ball up. The plastic felt cold in his hands. “My first capture.” Bulbasaur wandered over and sat himself down next to his master, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. As Josh looked at the ball shining in the moonlight, for the first time since leaving Mulberry Town he felt like a real trainer.

Next Chapter: The Girl from Cherrygrove City

 

[Beth Pavell]

Version History:

Spoiler

1.2 : Altered dialogue layout in line with common fanfiction convention

Chapter Three - The Girl from Cherrygrove City (Version 1.2)

The sun slid down in the sky, bringing a cold evening. The wind tasted of sea-salt as it came gusting in over Route 32. Up in the branches of a sturdy ash, a girl sat giving the landscape a critical look. North and south ran the road – tarmacked, and cobbled on either side to accommodate the frequent foot traffic. Westwards, a dirt track led to the uplands and then to the pine forests of the hills. To the south and east the trees thickened, marching on until they became the Union Wood. Somewhere hidden in a fold in the land lay the village of the same name, and the last Pokémon Centre of Route 32.

Evelina huffed ruefully. It was no good. Both she and her pokémon were tired from the day, her hair was full of salt, and she needed a hot meal. Whether she liked it or not, she’d have to spend the night at Union Pokémon Centre.

A soft yowl from above made her look up. Her meowth had found his way into the higher branches of the tree, where he now stood smirking shiftily down at his trainer. He had an air of coiled spring about him, with the ragged whiskers and scarred face of a cunning old street tom. Evelina looked back at the landscape, pretending to take no more notice of her pokémon. She swung a hand casually down to her sock, watching Meowth out of the corner of her eye.

“Return!” The recall beam struck Meowth mid-leap. My turn to smirk now, Evelina thought. Hiding the Poké Ball in her sock had paid off this time. She wasn’t sure why Meowth insisted on playing this game. He was never disobedient in battle, and even if she missed him the first few times he would always return to his Poké Ball in the end. Maybe the street tom was just making a point.

Evelina clambered down from her tree and headed off down the southward road. The twilit air was filled with the sounds of pokémon bedding down for the night – pidgey muttering in the trees, wild mareep calling to one another in the fields. An ekans eyed her suspiciously from the long grass before slithering away on business of its own. Evelina took no notice. She was just too tired, stumping rather than striding down the road, her boots clacking on the cobbles. She was beginning to regret her decision to go looking for krabby among the rock pools that morning at low tide. The clashing waves had nearly drenched her to her skin as they foamed about the rocks. A waterproof jacket had staved off the worst of it, but even so her hair felt like it would crackle if she tried to run her fingers through it.

The world turned to shades of grey in the gathering dusk. The crescent moon replaced the sun, and the shadows under the trees deepened to a charcoal black. Union Wood was now as dark as a cave, though the ribbon of the road stood out starkly in the moonlight. The sight of dark shapes flitting around in the air made Evelina pause her march. Their flight was rather erratic, but there were definitely three pokémon circling above her head. They were being careful not to silhouette themselves against the sky, keeping to the shadows cast by the trees. Something about their interest made Evelina want to reach for her Poké Balls … instead she reached for her Pokédex.

Be-beep!

“Zubat, the Bat Pokémon. Zubat rest in caves during the day, and emerge at nightfall. Zubat have been known to attack solitary travellers on the road.”

Just a trio of zubat stretching their wings, she told herself, biting her lip. There’s no reason to think that they’ll attack. Maybe they’re just curious. Yes, just three curious zubat, just stretching their wiiings! – something swooped past her ear, leathery wings flapping madly as it tried to land. She shrieked and beat it off. She grabbed a Poké Ball – Meowth’s Poké Ball – and popped it open with shaking hands.

Meowth instantly swiped at a passing zubat, hissing with rage. “Double Team!” his trainer called out, and he leapt to obey. Evelina saw Meowth copy himself six, seven, eight times, fending off the zubat with precise Cut attacks. In the moonlight she could hardly follow the battle. The ringleader swooped in again. Meowth climbed his trainer like a tree and took a flying leap off her shoulder, claws outstretched and howling. He collided with the zubat, bearing it to the ground, raining down Fury Swipes.

“That’s enough Meowth. To me,” Evelina called, her voice shaky. The other zubat had fled in the face of Meowth’s ire. Meowth backed off reluctantly, returning to his trainer for a scratch behind the ears. Evelina saw his chest rising and falling rapidly, though the proud tom tried to hide it. He was tired, but he’d found energy to battle when she needed him to.

“Well fought, you. Take a rest, huh? Let me take care of you now.” Meowth didn't protest as she recalled him to his Ball. Too tired to argue. Evelina took a deep, shuddery breath and headed off again at a jog. Her tired legs gave no protest, the adrenaline coursing through her giving her one last push. The night pokémon rustled in the undergrowth – but reassuringly, the click of a zubat’s echolocation was nowhere to be heard.

Presently, she came to a fork in the road. On the right, a wooden signpost pointed towards Union Cave. Left, and Evelina could see the village of Union Wood twinkling invitingly half a mile down the road. Union Cave will have to wait, she thought, and took the left-hand path.

*​

Union Pokémon Centre fronted onto the village green, right in the heart of Union Wood. The Centre was some four hundred years old, converted from the village coaching inn. Built from stone and ancient oak, it was the kind of building that was just too old and strong to be knocked down. Where once the pub sign hung above the door, now there was fixed a large red P, backlit sharply with a halogen lamp. In all other respects, however, the inn looked much the same as it had for centuries - a quaint 16th century relic repurposed for modern times.

Friendly yellow light splashed from the windows and open doors. Inside, what was once the bar area was now a wide lounge, lit by electric sconces and backed by the main desk. Instead of the familiar crisp white plastic common to most Pokémon Centres, the desk was the remains of the old bar, an oaken construction worn smooth down the years by the hands of countless people.

A few scattered trainers were hanging out in the lounge when Evelina entered. A flatscreen TV murmured on the left-hand wall, while behind the main desk the Centre nurse was idly filling out paperwork. Well, there was nothing for it. Evelina gritted her teeth and approached the desk. Looking up, the nurse’s smile remained steadfastly pasted onto her face, but Evelina spotted the tiny double take, the flicker of recognition in her eyes.

“Good evening,” she said. No ‘How may I help you’, Evelina thought.

“My pokémon are exhausted and so am I. I need a bed for the night, if you have one.”

“I’ll see to your pokémon now.”

“And the bed?”

“I think we have one available,” Joy replied, unhelpfully. The two Joys stared at each other. Evelina decided that she’d had enough.

“Look I know what you’re thinking. And you know I know what you’re thinking. So why don’t you just say it? I’m too tired to play family games.”

“You’d be the girl from Cherrygrove City? Gabriella’s eldest.”

“My name is Evelina. I am a pokémon trainer, and I need a bed. Am I going to sleep here tonight or not?”

“There is space,” Joy snapped. “Hand me your pokémon. I’ll check them out – not that I should have to.”

“Sure you don’t want to check my trainer’s license first?”

Joy ignored the sarcasm and took the proffered Poké Balls, smile still glued to her face. Some of the other trainers had noticed the hostility at the desk and were guilelessly eavesdropping. Evelina gave them a full hands-on-hips glare, daring anyone to pass comment. No-one did. She leant on the desk drumming her fingers for a moment. She’d seen that look before. It was the same look she’d got at the Violet City Pokémon Centre. It was the same look she’d got from any number of relatives, when all the other girls were getting ready to go to nursing college.

Well, here was another aunt who certainly wasn't going to be her best friend. She might as well make the best of it. The other trainers still watching her out of eye corners, she smartly vaulted the desk, signed herself in, and helped herself to a locker key. Despite her scowl, Evelina was beginning to feel more optimistic. Her aunt may well at this moment be on the phone to the Cherrygrove City Pokémon Centre, but gossip was endless. Right now, what mattered was a hot dinner and a shower.

*​

Half an hour later, Evelina sat sprawled in the shower, smiling to herself. Blessedly hot water ran in rivulets down her shoulders. Salt and sweat swirled away down the plug, and so too did the accumulated annoyances of the day. For now, in the steamy sanctuary of the shower, life was simple and uninterrupted. Later, it wouldn't be, but Evelina was sure she could put off being annoyed again until after dinner. For now, life was simple.

The shower room door opened and closed, somewhere beyond the veil of steam. Evelina ignored it. She was thinking about the adventure ahead. Azalea Town wasn't far now, not with Union Cave so close. A short jaunt through the Cave, then across Route 33, and she’d be on the doorstep of the Azalea Town Gym. Evelina giggled with excitement – another Gym, and another Gym Badge!

She could do with catching another pokémon, if she was to challenge the Azalea Gym. Not because she was liable to lose with Ledyba and Meowth. Bug-type pokémon weren’t going to have a type advantage over her pair of scallywags. No, rather it was because she hadn't caught a pokémon since starting her journey. Meowth she’d caught a little over a year ago. Ledyba had been captured when she was sixteen. Each of her pokémon was special in their own way … Ledyba, aggressive and confident. Meowth, old and cunning. If she was to catch another pokémon, it would be a pokémon that was special in some way.

Not to worry, Evelina thought. I’ll know it when I see it.

Next Chapter: Over Hill, Under Hill

Atlas - Little Nowhere Places:

Spoiler

Union Wood is another logical extrapolation from an in-game location. There's a Pokémon Centre by some trees at the bottom of Route 32 – add a village and a logical name and there you have it. There are lots of places like it in rural England, little nowhere places that you'd never even notice unless you were lost. Union Wood is a practically boring name compared to what some of these villages are called.

 

[Beth Pavell]

Spoiler: Version History

1.3 : Rewrote the Union Cave description
1.4 : Revised some of Josh's dialogue

Chapter Four – Over Hill, Under Hill (Version 1.4)

Joshua​

Josh was sulking. Rain hammered down in silvery sheets and went gurgling away down the rocky paths. It drizzled off the ends of tree branches and dripped off pine needles. It whipped capriciously under shelters. Sat under the damp eaves of a hemlock, Josh watched the downpour sullenly. He had planned to cross over the mountain in little over half a day, and so come to Route 33 well before sunset. The weather, though, had other ideas.

Thunder rumbled overhead. It should have been a sensible plan. On the map, Union Cave looked to be longer and just as difficult as the mountain path. Being unfamiliar with mountain weather, Josh had been relying on the clear skies report from his Pokégear's weather app. So much for that – this rainstorm had seemingly blown in from nowhere.

The wind tried to drive rain under the shaggy hemlock branches. Josh zipped his old brown jacket right up to his chin, and wondered whether he should have tried to relocate to Olivine City or Goldenrod – somewhere his degree would be in higher demand. Well, that was the conundrum, right there. There was no guarantee that he'd manage to find work before his living money ran out. It was the sort of risk that would either pay off handsomely, or cost hundreds of dollars to no gain. On the whole it wasn't a risk Josh was willing to take, though he couldn't help but sometimes wonder if he'd made the right decision.

The pokémon he was sharing the shelter with wasn’t helping, either. Nestled snugly in the branches of the hemlock, a hoothoot watched him unblinkingly with its round, red eyes. The rain didn’t seem to be bothering it at all. Josh scowled up at it.

“Did you get up early just to watch me get soaked?” Hoothoot just hooted insolently back. Josh’s brow furrowed again. He was beginning to suspect that the owl was laughing at him. Damn it. Four, maybe five miles to the west the path ran until it reached the top of a wide valley. A lively stream ran through it, but there were steps carved into the rock – good, safe steps. That was the Granite Pass, and walking downhill it would have been possible to be in the next village well before nightfall - if it hadn’t rained.

Just as Josh was considering throwing something at the hoothoot, the rain slackened off. Thunder still rumbled further up the mountainside, but here on the lower slopes the downpour slowed to a scattered drizzle. Josh emerged stiffly from beneath the tree. There was still enough time to reach the Granite Pass before nightfall. Reaching to his belt, he unsnapped a Poké Ball from its clasp. Time to get to know his new pokémon.

“Out you come, Magnemite,” he said. Magnemite didn’t appear to be at all fazed by its capture. It just hovered, gazing blankly at him.

“Er. So. Magnemite,” said Josh. “Looks like I’m your new trainer. No hard feelings over being caught, right?”

Magnemite stared back.

“We could be good friends, you know. Just ask Bulbasaur.”

Stare.

“I thought we could walk to the pass together,” he continued. “Get to know each other, sort of thing. Er.”

Stare.

“In a creepy way, you’re kind of cute really,” he said desperately.

Magnemite listed to its left. Josh tried to work out whether that meant Magnemite liked the compliment. Its constant stare was beginning to make his eyes water. He gazed southwards down the mountainside; the slopes dominated by graceful, pencil-straight Godwood cedars. Well, while I'm here. Josh walked over to the nearest Godwood and picked a sprig of the aromatic needles – they went well with lemon tea. When he looked back, Magnemite was determinedly making its way up the mountainside.

“Oi, where are you going?” Josh shouted. “Get back here!”

His pokémon made no answer, except to spin on its axis a couple of times. Josh growled in frustration and gave chase. His boots kicked up against the rocky ground and he stumbled as he ran. He fumbled for Magnemite’s Poké Ball as he leapt up a steep slope. Damn it! Who would have thought a magnemite would be so swift?

“You stop right there, you screwball!” he yelled. “Do ye hear me – ow!” Josh slipped on the wet leaf litter and fell hard. The Poké Ball went bouncing away down the slope. Magnemite watched in wide-eyed interest as its trainer scrambled to retrieve the Ball. Breathing heavily, Josh stabbed a threatening finger at his errant pokémon.

“Mag-nemiiiite,” it droned in return and was off again, winding randomly through the dripping cedars.

“Return!” The recall beam skipped off a tree and dissipated. His second and third attempts to recall Magnemite similarly failed – aiming a recall beam was difficult whilst simultaneously trying to chase it through the trees. Josh bared his teeth. Right, that tears it, he thought. He half-sprinted, half-leapt up the mountainside, dodging tree-trunks and ducking branches. A listing spray of sugar pine dumped a shower of rainwater down his neck. Cursing breathlessly, Josh trod heavily on a large rock and sent it tumbling away. “Geo!” it complained, swinging its fists.

He passed Magnemite, giving it a wide circling berth, running on another few yards before smartly hiding behind a tree. Magnemite lost sight of him. It swivelled about, looking in completely the wrong directions, and slowly twiddled its screws in their sockets with dull squeaking noise. Josh crept out from his hiding place – he managed to get within a few feet of Magnemite before it heard him.

“Magnemite!” it cried, just in time to see its trainer pounce.

“Gotcha!” he shouted in triumph, seizing his pokémon with a flying tackle. The pair tumbled and bounced wildly down the mountain until a pine log halted them with a jolt. Josh lay on the damp ground, clutching Magnemite firmly. His body started to register complaints – aching legs, thumping chest, banged head. A hollow boom split the air apart. Lightning flashed.

“Oh dear …”

The storm was closing back in.

*​

The thunderstorm rumbled down the mountains, lashing the slopes with sheets of water. The raindrops hit the ground so hard that they bounced back an inch or more. Black clouds brought on an early night. Lightning flashed, turning the forest into a stark tableau of dark trunks and silver rain.

The storm had been hanging around the uplands for days, gathering in power as it went. Now it dumped its accumulated strength in one go, joyously throwing everything it had at the hillsides. Pokémon huddled under logs and boulders to wait it out. At the eastern end of Union Cave, the tallest pine in the forest was split in half by a lightning strike. Granite Pass was a torrent of white water.

In the midst of it all, a trainer zigzagged through the forest, lost.

*​

Which way was west?

Josh squinted through the gloom, Magnemite hovering at his shoulder. Raindrops clustered on the lenses of his glasses blurred his vision. He swung his lantern left and right, looking for a landmark, any landmark, that might give him a clue as to where he was. The illumination from the brief flashes of lightning was no help at all – all he saw was a barcode forest, ranks of dark pines stretching in every direction.

Not for the first time, Josh cursed the mountain path. He cursed Magnemite too, for its disobedience. Somehow during the chase he must have lost his bearings. In the dark of the storm he had no idea which way he had drifted, east or west, north or south. By the light of his lantern he saw a cut-out view of the forest, a circular peep-hole filled with rain.

Lightning speared a tree, its heartwood bursting into flame regardless of the downpour. It wasn't much more than a furlong away – too close for comfort. Josh's imagination supplied a vivid image of boiling sap and wooden shrapnel. He fumbled in his jacket pocket for Magnemite’s Poké Ball.

“This is too dangerous. Get in, now,” he commanded, recalling it.

Which way was west?

He headed downhill, on the basis that it would eventually take him down to Route 32, or 33. Downhill was the only recognisable direction at this point, anyway. Josh shivered. The rain had soon soaked him through to the skin, and now his old jumper sat heavily on his shoulders. He could feel his socks squelching in his boots, though the pounding rain drowned out all sound.

For the umpteenth time that day he slipped on a patch of scree. In the dark he couldn’t see where to place his weight and so went tumbling down the slope yet again. Fresh scratches raised on his hands, with aching head he stumbled up to his feet. The lantern hadn’t broken in the fall – at least that was something.

An unpleasant tight sensation was growing in his chest. This is ridiculous, Josh thought, I’m never lost. But there were no landmarks! Nothing to recognise, nothing to steer by! Josh heaved down a few steadying breaths. Alright, calm down, he told himself. Keep heading downhill. He methodically panned his lantern around again, and his heart leapt. There, further downhill, a gap in the forest! He was closer to the foothills than he’d thought.

Heading towards the gap with renewed purpose, Josh tried to wipe the rain from his glasses. It made no difference – the drops just smeared and were replaced in seconds anyway. The thunder seemed to grind and roar ever louder. Josh paused, confused. Was that thunder? He strained to hear past the lashing rain. It sounded deep, throaty, not like the hollow boom of thunder.

A particularly bright lightning strike lit up the forest. For a few seconds Josh could see clearly. About twenty feet away, a fully-grown onix was watching him and roaring. Josh spat out a curse and fled. An onix! A bloody territorial onix! He risked a glance behind – it was following, still roaring. What was an onix doing out in a thunderstorm?

He changed direction, half-running, half-leaping downhill. Picking up speed, he laughed breathlessly. Try and catch me now, boulder-boy! The laughter died in his throat as the onix went crashing by like a runaway train, smashing trees like matchsticks as it went. It turned, head held low to the ground. It opened its mouth wide, and screeched.

The noise was awful. Josh clapped his hands to his ears, and screamed.

Josh wasn’t sure how long the Screech went on for. His eardrums throbbed. Onix lay motionless amid the ruined trees, watching him. Josh wondered why it hadn’t attacked. What was it trying to do? He looked past the onix to the tree-gap, looking for a nest or lair of some kind. The rain eased off a little, and scarce feet away, a flash of lightning revealed –

… yawning depths, sheer cliffs, a black chasm …

Josh hurriedly threw an arm around a broken tree trunk.

“Unk,” he managed. He clutched the broken trunk like a child clinging to his mother, shut his eyes and waited patiently for the world to stop spinning. Eventually, the ringing in his ears dimmed a little, and he dared to let go.

“You were trying to warn me about the cliff, weren’t you?” he said. The onix seemed to relax. Josh supposed that meant it had understood. It was an imposing pokémon, especially in the gloom of the storm – a good thirty feet long, and darker coloured than most of its species. Its body was rounded rather than rugged, smoothened from years of tunnelling. The look it gave Josh was somehow old, like a stern but kindly grandfather.

Crunching over pulverised wood, Onix slithered a little way along the cliff. It partly turned back, staring expectantly. Josh followed cautiously, taking care to keep the onix between himself and the cliff face beyond. The old pokémon led him down a ledge that wound down the sheer side of the mountain. It kept glancing back to make sure that Josh was still there, seemingly unafraid of the yawning depths.

Eventually, Onix stopped at an apparently random spot. It coiled itself up slightly, its massive bulk only just squeezing onto the path. Without warning, it roared and smashed its way into the cliff face. The ground rumbled and shook, the night filled with the elemental sound of rock grinding on rock as it squirmed through the mountainside.

Josh cautiously shone his lantern down the tunnel. Tremors vibrated up from far underground. He hesitated, nervy at the prospect of following down an onix's burrow. He mentally shook himself. This old onix had stopped him from walking over the cliff edge, hadn’t it? There was something in the look on its face – that grandfatherly expression – that suggested it knew very well what it was doing. Josh slid himself into the tunnel, took a deep breath, and was gone.

*​

Deep underground, Josh struggled through the living rock. He cursed sincerely and often in his hometown dialect; slithering down an onix-pit turned out to be a difficult, grubby, claustrophobic business. He wasn't really feeling afraid any more, so much as persistent, deep-rooted apprehension. A change in the dispersal of the light seemed to reveal an end to the tunnel. Relieved, tired and sore, he slid down the last few yards and fell into a spacious, airy cavern.

Josh painfully regained his feet and panned his lantern around the cavern. The ceiling soared up four, maybe five fathoms – why did it occur to him to estimate it in terms of depth? - the cold electric light touching off galleries of stalactites. A wide pool covered almost half of the cavern floor, the surface perfectly still, like a molten mirror, speckled with peach-coloured stromatolites. The walls were frosted with some variety of chalk-white moss.

“Oh my …” Josh breathed. He’d heard stories of underground lakes hidden in obscure corners of Union Cave. How many people had seen this chamber, he wondered, stepping around the edge of the pool with reverent care, like a man in a cathedral – to disturb the water would be unthinkable, a sacrilege.

That wasn't really moss, was it? A closer look showed them to be an intricate, delicate forest of crystals, like tiny heads of club moss and bracken sprays, twinkling shyly in the lantern-light.

Exhaustion was trying to catch up with him. Josh blinked hard in an effort to stay awake. There was another tunnel on the far side of the cavern, leading off into the dark. Josh shone his lantern down it, trying to think through the fog of exhaustion. After a while, he released Magnemite.

“Alright, listen you,” he said wearily. “Watch for other pokémon and listen for my orders. Understand?”

Magnemite said nothing. It was staring off into the blackness.

“Magnemite. Understand?”

“Magnemite!” it droned urgently, rapidly hovering down the tunnel.

“Oi! I'm the pathfinder. Don't make me recall you!” Stumbling with exhaustion, he chased his pokémon into the depths of Union Cave.

Next Chapter: Matters of Grace

 

[Beth Pavell]

Version History:

Spoiler

1.2 : Altered dialogue layout in line with common fanfiction convention

Chapter Five – Matters of Grace (Version 1.2)

Joshua​

A grey dawn broke over Route 33. It was a pale, shivery sort of morning, cloaked in the subdued calm that comes after a storm. The sun rose lethargically through shredded clouds that hung high and wispy above the world.

Tucked under a bush, Josh lay in that content, fluffy place between sleeping and waking – not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. The morning air had a fresh, washed out smell, the smell you only get after rain. Sensations filtered in one by one – the rustling of leaves, hoppip piping, the feel of the sleeping bag.

A fuzzy thought rose in Josh’s brain. But I don’t own a sleeping bag …

Reluctantly, Josh made himself wake up properly. After a brief squint around for his glasses, he sat up and took a first look at the morning. He was lying in a grassy hollow, sheltered from the wind by a thick tangle of bushes. His clothes had been left to dry in the breeze, thrown over an A-frame fashioned from hazel sticks. Josh stared blankly at them. Vague memories of last night floated through his mind. Exhaustion. Finding a way through Union Cave. Coming to Route 33.

A metallic glint caught his eye, and Josh looked up at Magnemite hovering, and watching. For some reason best known to itself, it was slowly orbiting the campsite. The expression on its strange, artificial face was as inscrutable as ever.

“So you’ve decided to hang around then?” Josh asked sharply. Magnemite gave no answer. It was not, on the whole, a complicated creature but it had stayed by its trainer’s side all through the night. Dead on his feet, its trainer had fallen straight into a deep sleep. In the grey half-light before sunrise a group of zubat showed rather a lot of interest in the sleeping trainer. Magnemite decided it didn’t like that. It flicked electricity at them until they gave up and flew away. Something in Magnemite’s electronic mind sensed that its trainer was annoyed with it. Magnemite decided to wait for an order, so it could obey and then its trainer wouldn’t be annoyed any more.

Despite himself, Josh softened a little. Magnemite had been out of its Poké Ball all night and it hadn’t wandered off. Maybe it was warming to him after all. That little magnet pokémon was a mystery.

The sleeping bag was another. It was a business-like affair; warm on the inside, tough and waterproof on the outside. The bag was dull green in colour, unadorned except for a single logo. It looked like a stylised Poké Ball superimposed on a black background, surrounded by a laurel wreath. A pokémon ranger’s bag? Josh thought. The events of last night were still a little hazy. He could only assume that he had met a ranger last night, and borrowed this sleeping bag.

As he dressed and got ready to make a move, he sorted through the memories of the last twenty-four hours. They had a curiously unreal quality, as if being lost and wet and frightened had happened to someone else. In the calm of the morning, with the smell-after-rain rising off the turf, it was hard to really recall the heart-thumping fear of having nearly run off a cliff after being apparently chased by bull onix. And the memory of the cave, the magical dancing lights shining from mirror-perfect pools – that too felt like it had been something merely dreamt, or hallucinated.

Josh smirked wryly to himself. Damp clothes feel real - laying eyes on a natural wonder does not. That seemed like it should be the other way round. He swung his bag over his shoulder, hefted the now repacked sleeping bag, and went to look for the road.

*​

The road to Azalea Town is a short one, running past wide fields until it bends north to meet the eaves of the Charwood. A trainer was hurrying west along the track, passing over the last few miles of the Route. His magnemite trailed after him - stopping occasionally to stare at things - and by mid-morning he’d left the fields far behind.

Josh was feeling almost cheerful. Over the last few miles his clothes had dried out properly and he was confident that Azalea Town was no more than an hour away. On the right sparse evergreen woods lined the path; on the left rose a low outcrop of red clay. The smells of pine resin and wet clay mingled pleasantly in the cool air. He’d just stopped to read a signpost when a boisterous voice called out: “Yo trainer! How many Badges do you have?”

This was shouted down by a young man up on the outcrop. He was about Josh’s own age, though taller and broader.

“None,” he called back. “Why do you ask?”

“None at all? Aww, you’re kidding me?”

“None as yet,” Josh shrugged.

“Well, whatever.” The guy slid down the steep clay with perfect balance. For some reason he’d decided to walk about as though he’d just come from the beach – light blue hoodie with a funky wave design, three-quarter length shorts, even sandals, for heaven’s sake. His blond hair had a fashionably salt-damaged appearance. “You’ll do anyway.”

“I’ll do for what?” said Josh.

“A battle, trainer, a battle. You won’t win, but you’ll do for practice.”

“Practice. And what, exactly, guarantees you victory?” Josh asked coldly.

“Trainer, you’re lookin’ at an alumnus of the Dewford Island Gym!” he said with a smirk. “Name’s Tyler Bradshaw, remember it, ‘cause it’s a name for a champion!”

Dewford Island. Josh had been there once, for a holiday. They had laughed at him, because he was skinny and nerdy, and he couldn’t swim, much less surf, because he had a bulbasaur and not an aron. And then one of the pretty surfer girls had asked him out as he sat drinking bad coffee, with her friends laughing at him and waiting to see if he’d fall for it. Josh spotted the trap easily, but it didn’t matter. He was still entertainment.

“I accept your challenge. One-on-one, no time limit,” he said, unsnapping Bulbasaur’s Poké Ball.

“Hah! One-on-one it is, trainer,” Tyler said. “Go Machop!”

“Battle’s on Bulbasaur!”

Tyler’s Machop slowly pounded a fist into its palm in an attempt to intimidate Bulbasaur. Its oversized muscles rippled smoothly under grey skin. “Careful,” Josh ordered. Machop looked hale and healthy – Josh wasn’t sure what it could do. Bulbasaur paced at a safe distance, growling.

“Machop! Start it off,” called Tyler, suddenly serious. “Karate Chop!”

Machop closed the distance at a run, arrow-quick. Bulbasaur deftly ducked under the first swing, and caught a backhand blow under the chin from the other hand. He threw himself into a roll and thumped back with a Tackle. Bulbasaur leapt again but Machop neatly dodged with a backward-roll.

“Keep your distance,” Josh said. “Leech Seed!”

Bulbasaur fired the Leech Seed high on a classic looping trajectory. Machop side-stepped, darted in, and kicked Bulbasaur’s legs from beneath him. Bulbasaur landed heavily and fired again. This time the seed was batted way with a casual flick of the hand.

“Bullet Punch!” Tyler ordered. Machop blurred and smacked a fist into Bulbasaur’s side. A smirk was starting to form on Tyler’s face as he watched his pokémon dart in and out. Josh smirked inwardly. Got you.

“Leech Seed, fire it flat!” he called. Bulbasaur crouched and let fly as Machop stepped in for a Karate Chop. The seed whistled in and struck Machop on the arm, putting out a mass of tendrils and binding the arm tight.

Machop flailed its arm and tugged at the tendrils, but the seed held fast. The smirk had gone from Tyler’s face – Josh could see Tyler knew as well as he did that the Leech Seed would sit there, quietly sapping away Machop’s energy until Bulbasaur chose to reclaim it. And now Machop had dropped its guard …

“Vine Whip!” The vine made a loud crack as the blow connected. Bulbasaur didn’t give his opponent time to recover, smacking his other vine into the back of Machop’s legs and scything it down like a stalk. Machop rolled to dodge one lashing vine only to take a stinging blow from the other.

“Machop! Use your Karate Chop and block the blows!” Tyler called.

“Keep up Vine Whip! Beat it down!”

Josh watched the battle clinically. Tyler’s pokémon fended off Bulbasaur’s Vine Whips with its forearm, blocking some blows, deflecting others. It can’t keep up this attrition, Josh thought. Bulbasaur can reclaim the Leech Seed at any time to heal himself. This battle is mine.

“Grab the vines and pull, Machop!”

Machop’s hands shot out and seized Bulbasaur’s vines, faster than Josh had thought possible. So fast. Bulbasaur tried to tug free as Machop tightened its grip. A triumphant look flared in its red eyes. It yanked hard, dragging Bulbasaur to the ground. Bulbasaur howled in pain.

The Leech Seed unwrapped itself from around Machop’s arm and flew back to its maker, bringing the stolen energy with it. Bulbasaur hauled himself to his feet and growled his defiance. Fierce pride welled in Josh’s chest. Just look at that tenacity! Tyler was saying something, but Josh wasn’t paying attention. The sight of Machop running in - fist drawn back for a Bullet Punch - snapped him back to the battle.

“Tackle!” he commanded, but Machop connected first. Bulbasaur Tackled in turn, but Machop simply rolled to its feet and thudded a Low Kick into Bulbasaur’s side. Machop drew back its hand and swung. Bulbasaur, too tired to dodge, caught the Karate Chop behind the ear.

“Bul!” he grunted almost resignedly, and lost his footing for a last time.

Josh held out Bulbasaur’s Poké Ball and recalled his unconscious pokémon. You tried so hard. Tyler was laughing. Josh’s heart sank. He’d really wanted to beat Tyler, to wipe that smug look off his face. They were so close to defeating him.

Tyler was still laughing at him. “Aww, man! Did I not tell you that I would win?”

“Calm down,” Josh told him. “You just won.”

“No, no, no, trainer. You lost, and I crushed you!”

“You could at least win with grace. The is such a thing as sportsmanship, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s funny how losers only ‘win with grace’!” Tyler said scornfully.

Josh began to frame a biting comeback, but thought better of it. It wouldn’t matter how clever it was - Tyler would just laugh all the more. You don’t have to lose with bad grace just because he wins without it, he told himself. He glanced round at Magnemite still hovering at his shoulder. It was staring steadily at Tyler. The patient intensity of its gaze struck Josh as somehow hostile. It whined its low, discordant stereo-feedback whine.

“Come on, Magnemite,” Josh told it. “Let’s go into town.” He turned his back to his grinning opponent. Magnemite followed reluctantly, hovering backwards so as to maintain its stare.

“Hey trainer!” Tyler called after him. “How does being a loser taste? Does it taste bitter?” Josh shut his ears and ignored the cat-calls. He walked quickly, taking long strides down the red clay path till he was well out of earshot. Tyler’s derisive laughter was still ringing in his ears. Josh wondered why that guy bothered him so. Guys like Tyler were common in this world, as far as he could see. They were the people who, as teenagers, had risen to the top of their little social ladder, and had stayed there. They were the people who were, in short, the cool kids.

Such juvenile class distinctions didn’t matter any more. Josh was twenty-one. He hadn’t considered himself a boy for a long while now, and it had been longer still since the casual scorn of his peers had got under his skin, as it had that one summer on Dewford Island. Maybe it was that, despite the fact that Josh was no longer a nerdy boy but a young man, Tyler was still acting like a boy of sixteen.

If I ever meet him again, I will defeat him. And I will do it with grace.

Josh found himself standing atop a low rise in the land. On the right, the Charwood marched on towards the north. The path struck out west, away from the eaves of the wood down the hillside. There, it became a country lane, bordered left and right with farmer’s fields. Beyond, perhaps a little over half a mile down the lane, Josh could see the outskirts of Azalea Town. Smoke was rising from chimneys, smudging the pale morning sky.

Which means the Azalea Town Gym isn’t far away … or my first Gym battle.

Next Chapter: Azalea Town

Atlas - Coal Fires and Chimneys:

Spoiler

Believe it or not, at 24 years old I remember a time when everyone I knew heated their homes with a coal fireplace. I used to live in a old post-war semi-detached house, the kind that had sparrows nesting in the brickwork and was completely the wrong sort of shape for efficient coal-fire heating. If a coal fire sounds romantic, well, it isn't when you have no other choice - the soot, the smuts, getting coal from the bunker, lighting the damn thing. The last sight of this chapter was inspired by those still mornings when everyone had their fire going, and every chimney had a curl of smoke rising out of it

 

[Beth Pavell]

Version History:

Spoiler

1.2 : Altered dialogue layout in line with common fanfiction convention
1.3 : Corrected description error - Eve wears a coat, not a jacket

Chapter Six – Azalea Town (Version 1.4)

Evelina​

The claw raked Ledyba hard across the face. She buzzed shrilly and corkscrewed away. A second Scratch attack ploughed a deep furrow into the dirt as she climbed out of her assailant’s reach. The battlefield was a rough rectangle in the dirt, little more than a clearing in the thickly clustered trees. The glass ceiling of the Gym broke the morning sun into beams that lanced down through the budding treetops.

Ledyba hovered in a sunbeam, her gauzy wings flickering ethereally against the light. Her flight was slightly erratic – the telltale sign of the lingering effects of poison. Evelina glanced across to her opponent, a young man in cargo shorts, wielding his bug net like a poleaxe. He wore the worryingly earnest expression of a true bug maniac. He seemed to vibrate slightly, as if the sight of two Bug-types battling on the same field was altogether too much excitement.

“Comet Punch!” Evelina ordered. Finish it quickly!

“Dig, Paras!”

Paras promptly disappeared in a cloud of dirt. Evelina growled in frustration as Ledyba hurriedly pulled out of her dive. Still stalling for time! She wondered how long Ledyba could last under the sinister effects of Poison Powder. Paras resurfaced at the edge of the field, clicking its mandibles and chanting “Parasparasparas!” excitedly.

“Tick, tick, tock!” its trainer called. “You can fly, but I can dig! What will you do now, Miss Joy?”

Seize the initiative! Evelina could hear her heartbeat drumming dully in her ears. This was where a real battle was fought – on the edge, where neither trainer knew what the other was planning, where strategies fell away and it was just you and your pokémon. She smiled a glinting smile. Seize the initiative!

“Let’s finish this, Ledyba. Tackle, come in fast and low!” Her pokémon curled into a swift dive and sped across the battlefield.

Paras’ trainer stabbed at the air with his bug net. “Now, my pretty Paras! Rock Smash!”

Paras thrust out its claw like a spear, enthusiastically mimicking its trainer’s stance. As Ledyba bore down, the little mushroom pokémon sprang up to meet it.

“Protect!” Evelina yelled joyously. A shimmering green bubble flashed into existence around Ledyba, flickering on-off just for a second. Paras bounced off the Protect as if it had been flicked away, flailing its little limbs desperately. Ledyba intercepted elegantly and pummelled it with a flurry of Comet Punches. The attack made a neat little thrrrdp as it connected.

Paras landed heavily on the dirt, its eyes even glassier than usual. It had fainted dead away. “Paras is unable to battle,” called the referee. “The victory goes to the challenger, Evelina!”

Evelina let out a squeak and assayed a little jump on the spot. “Yes! We did it, Ledyba! Come here for an Antidote!” As Evelina carefully sprayed Ledyba’s carapace with Antidote, the referee headed across the battlefield. He looked – and dressed – much younger than he was, with his outdoorsy shirt-and-shorts, boyish mop of dyed purple hair and yellow neckerchief. Leaning casually on his own bug net, he gave Evelina an appraising look.

“I’ve got to admit, Miss Joy, I had my doubts about you. But you fought a good battle – you’ve earned the right to battle me for the Hive Badge. I’ll take your challenge as soon as your ledyba’s fully recovered.”

“Thanks, Bugsy, but if I may I’d like to delay our battle,” Evelina answered, wiping off excess Antidote. “I’d like to catch a third pokémon. Good girl, Ledyba. Return for now, huh?”

“If that’s what you want. I’ll be waiting. Ah, a new challenger? Welcome to the Azalea Town Gym,” Bugsy said, looking over Evelina’s shoulder. The newcomer was leaning casually against a tree with his arms folded. His clothes were travel worn, and there was a leafy twig sticking out of his hair, but Evelina still recognised him.

“Omigosh, you’re that new trainer, the, the guy with the bulbasaur from Route 32! How’ve you been?”

“A friend from the road huh?” Bugsy said. “I know how that goes. If this is your first Gym, let me explain my rules to you. In order to challenge me, you must first battle one of my Gym trainers …”

Evelina headed for the exit, leaving the Leader to his explanation. She wondered how long the bulbasaur trainer had been watching. Maybe the whole time – the heat of battle tended to tunnel her vision.

“… your battle performance against my Gym trainer will allow me to decide how to test you in a Gym Battle -”

“Er, I appreciate your welcome, but I wonder if I might catch up with a friend, sort of thing. Excuse me … er, Evelina?”

He remembered my name? “Yes?” she said aloud. The young man had broken into a jog to catch up.

“That was a clever tactic you used back there. Luring Paras in and then using Protect.”

“Oh, thank you! But it wasn’t a tactic. At least I didn’t plan it. But thank you.”

“It was a clever tactic,” he repeated. His solemn tone made Evelina smile.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve rather forgotten your name,” she said hesitantly.

“Cook. Joshua Cook. Well, just Josh.”

“Evelina Joy. But you already knew that,” she said with a self-deprecating shrug. “Call me Eve.”

The two trainers stood in silence for a moment. Evelina kicked her heels idly in the dirt. A hush had fallen on the woodland Gym.

“Have you got a spare moment?” she said. “There are some nice cafés in town, if you’re interested?”

“Sounds good to me,” Josh answered. “It’s a nice morning for coffee.”

*​

All along Old Village high street, the azalea was in bloom. The high street is an airy boulevard, where ivy climbs the picturesque timber-and-stone buildings so iconic of Azalea Town. Wrought-iron lampposts line the cobbled streets, bearing bright little banners that flutter and snap in the wind. Everywhere you look, the azalea blossoms in the sun – thousands of little star-shaped blooms shining magenta, orange and white.

Evelina and Josh sat in the shade of an awning on the café patio. They’d tucked their bags beneath their seats, and the warmth of the late morning sun had forced Josh to remove his old grey jumper. Eve had unzipped her coat and was enjoying the westerly breeze that blew from across the river. She sat with her chin resting on her hand, gazing dreamily at the street. Azalea Town in the springtime was so pretty. Josh was leaning back in his seat, a curious little half-smile on his face. He still hadn’t noticed the twig in his hair.

“It’s a charming sight, don’t you think? Old Village. Quite a nineteenth-century charm,” she said.

“Yes … it’s nice to see a pedestrian town centre. High streets should be for walking. You were right about the café,” he added. “It’s in a lovely spot.”

“A welcome change after Union Cave, huh?”

“I didn’t come through Union Cave. Not all of it, anyway. I took the mountain path.”

“You did not! There was a storm over Union Cave last night!” Eve said accusingly.

“Don’t I know it. I had to go down into the Cave and walk on to Route 33. I was so exhausted, I’m still not quite sure how I managed it.”

Eve gave him a surprised look. In last night’s downpour it would have taken an excellent woodsman to find a way over the hills. “So how did you find your way back into the Cave?” she said.

“I had to slide down an onix's burrow. Which rather explains the state of my clothes,” he said apologetically.

Eve’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling a small gasp. She had to admit, she was a little impressed. Not many people would dare go poking around an onix burrow, storm or no storm. “You went down an onix burrow to get out of the rain,” she said with a giggle.

Josh waved his hand vaguely in an embarrassed ‘it is what it is’ sort of gesture. There was a fine cut on his palm that he apparently hadn’t bothered to put a plaster on. At that moment, a notepad-wielding waiter materialised, asking for their orders.

“What? Oh, er, medium black coffee please,” said Josh.

“You mean an Unovera, sir?”

“What?”

“An Unovera, sir.”

“Is that a black coffee with no trimmings?” Josh demanded.

“Um. Yes sir?” the waiter returned hopefully.

“All right, a medium Unovera, then.”

“We don’t have medium, sir,” the waiter said kindly. “We have piccolo, medio, grande, and troppo grande.”

Josh gave the waiter a cold stare. Beside him, Eve had her hand pressed firmly over her mouth, jaw clenched to keep in the giggles. There were little tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Grande,” he sighed. “A grande Unovera. Please.”

“Cappuccino grande,” Eve managed. She coughed a few times to clear the last of the giggles. Josh looked at her sidelong, but there was that curious half-smile on his face nevertheless. We’re actually having a nice time, she thought.

“You know Eve, I noticed something about you, back at the Gym. First thing you did after you won was to reach for an Antidote,” he hesitated, as if unsure of what to say next. “Why did you decide to be a trainer? I mean, you obviously care for pokémon. But you could do that as a nurse. Er.”

Eve drew breath for a defensive tirade … and then she saw the worried half-smile and stopped herself. He’s just asking, she told herself. Do you really want to snap at him? She gave him a brittle smile, feeling a little foolish for being defensive.

“What you have to understand about us …” she began. “Look, it’s like this. For the girls in our family, pokémon medicine is what we do. When I was little, after school I’d be helping out in the clinic before I did anything else. I’d be working half of my weekend in the Pokémon Centre. All the other girls enrolled straight into nursing college the moment they left school. And as soon as they graduate, they’ll become pokémon nurses, pokémon doctors, Pokémon League breeders,” she heaved a heavy sigh. “A Joy lives her entire life for someone else. It’s not that I don’t think it’s a worthwhile life, but … I’m twenty-three. I want to live for myself for a while! I want to see some of the world. I want to achieve something that’s just for me. I don’t need to be the Champion. I just … want to be my own woman.”

Josh was still patiently listening. “You probably think this is all kind of stupid -” Eve started.

“No, no, I get it. You want to make your own choices,” said Josh.

The waiter glided up, their coffees in hand. He set Josh’s Unovera in front of him with exaggerated care. Eve couldn’t help but glance across at it – yep, black coffee with no trimmings. The waiter hadn’t dared to bring any biscotti. She took a long sip of her cappuccino. It wasn’t very good.

“So aside from climbing down onix burrows, what have you done since I met you?” she asked.

“Well, I caught a magnemite. Though I didn’t intend to at the time,” he replied. “It was up on Route 32, in the western highlands. Er. Whatever this magnemite was doing up there in the first place, I’m not sure …” It was beginning to dawn on Eve that he was conscientiously trying not to look at her face. She casually raised a questing hand -

- and discovered a splendid foam moustache clinging to her lip. There was a moment of silence as she hastily brushed it away with the back of her hand. Josh’s face twitched into a smirk. “Serves you right for drinking cappuccino,” he quipped dryly.

Eve started to giggle. It really wasn’t funny, but right now she was prepared to laugh at anything. Josh started to giggle at her giggles, and soon they were both laughing freely, tension and nerves washed away by a foam moustache.

“So what’s this magnemite like? Is it a good battler?” said Eve.

“I have no idea. I’m not even sure what moves it knows.”

“I know how to find out,” said Eve, pulling out her Pokédex. It was a slim model, brushed-silver in colour. She pushed a large blue button near the bottom and flipped it open.

“Is that a Pokédex?” Josh asked, watching as Eve drew out the stylus.

“Yep. The HANDY912i, as it happens. Hand me Magnemite’s Poké Ball? Thanks.” She fumbled for a moment and slid out a wafer-thin screen from the right hand side of the Pokédex. It flashed into life, glowing orange-red with a number of arc-like shapes drifting gently around the edges. As Eve held it over the Poké Ball, the shapes converged and spun purposefully.

“The Poké Scanner retrieves data from the Poké Ball,” Eve explained, shuffling her chair round so Josh could see. “You can see Magnemite’s ID number, gender, its Ability, and look – its moves.”

“Tackle, Supersonic, Thundershock and Sonic Boom,” Josh read out. “Oh, and the Magnet Pull Ability.”

“Not a bad set of moves for the little guy. Here, let’s take a look at your bulbasaur!”

As they sat and talked in the sunshine, Eve decided that she rather liked Josh. He was full of half-smiles and dry quips – and he listened, really listened. It was as if he was carefully taking notes as she spoke. She told him about her meowth and his sly habits. Halfway through, he finally noticed the twig stuck in his hair. Eve just kept chattering on, pretending not to notice him surreptitiously pull it out.

“So next I’m going to catch a new pokémon, I think. How about you?”

“Well … I was going to challenge the Gym but I think I’ll work on my strategy first. Magnemite’s never been in a battle. To tell you the truth, I’m not even sure it really listens to me.”

“Why not go challenge the Gym anyway? If you want to know whether Magnemite listens to you, there’s no better way than just battling!” said Eve. “Look, what’s the worst that can happen? You lose. You can always go back and try again, and either way you’ll have learned something about Magnemite.”

Josh drummed his fingers on the table. Eve could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he thought it over.

“Hmm. I can’t fault that logic,” he said eventually. He finished what was left of his Unovera. “Alright! I suppose I’m off to challenge the Gym then.”

“Yay!” Eve said, a little louder than she’d intended. “I do have one question then.”

“What’s that?”

“Can I join you?”

*​

To a pokémon trainer, a Badge is not just a pin. The capital letter is important. It is proof of a trainer’s skill, emblematic of the long walk to the Pokémon League. In a way, earning a Badge is a highly tangible achievement. Earn eight Gym Badges, and you earn the right to compete in the League. That was the way it always was. A Badge doesn’t gain or lose value in the way a diploma might. An employer may argue over the value of a university education, but a Badge is always a Badge.

There was an orchestral movement that summed this all up. Which symphony it was from, Eve could never remember, but she knew it by its popular name as the Pokémon League Anthem. Endlessly adapted and remixed, it played in Pokémon Gyms and in the Halls of Fame. Opening ceremonies of the regional tournaments were accompanied by the full magnificence of the Anthem. For Eve, it was musical shorthand for the pride and glory of success fairly earned. It was music to be inspired by.

“Hmm. Hm-hm-HM-hm-hmm …” she’d been absent-mindedly humming the Anthem as she and Josh made their way back to the Gym. Josh was somewhat quieter – deep in thought, now and again he had murmured cryptically to himself. Probably strategising, Eve thought.

No music played to greet challengers at the Azalea Town Gym. Inside the dome of the Gym, a busy silence reigned. Bugs rustled suspiciously in the undergrowth and peered down from treetop perches. On the battlefield Bugsy had gathered together his Gym trainers, many of them leaning on bug nets in mimicry of their leader. Bugsy’s face cracked into a confident smile when he spotted Josh.

“So challenger, you’ve come back! Nice to see you too, Miss Joy. Can I assume that you want to battle one of my Gym trainers?” he said.

“You can,” Josh said. “I’m here to challenge the Gym.”

“Step up to the field, then. Benny, you’ll represent the Gym this time. What’s your name, challenger?”

“Cook, Joshua Cook. Of Mulberry Town.”

Benny took up position on the other side of the field. He was much younger than Evelina’s opponent had been, still very much a boy in his straw hat. The other Gym trainers formed a ragged line behind him with a rattle of nets and bait boxes. Benny was casually tossing a Nest Ball up in the air and catching it.

“Careful, Josh,” Eve said. “He may be young but he’s still a Gym trainer.”

Bugsy took the judge’s place at the edge of the field. Eve couldn’t see Josh’s expression as he selected a Poké Ball from his belt.

Crack!

The click of the clasp unsnapping rang in the expectant silence. Josh was rolling the reduced Poké Ball around his fingers.

“This battle between the challenger, Joshua Cook of Mulberry Town and Benny of the Azalea Town Gym is about to commence! Each trainer will use one pokémon! A Gym Battle is at stake!” Bugsy called.

Booip!

Josh expanded his Poké Ball. Eve thought she saw him fumble at the button for a moment. Was that a moment of nervousness?

“Begin!”

Next Chapter: Better Judgements

Atlas - Iconic Music and Pokédexes:

Spoiler

I couldn't help making a musical reference. I dare say everyone's figured it out, but I'm thinking of the Pokémon Gym theme from the games, writing this.

Eve's Pokédex is the Heart Gold/Soul Silver Pokédex as you may have guessed from the clamshell design and the stylus. The Poké Scanner comes straight from the anime, though as I recall it's only ever shown being used with the Sinnoh Pokédexes

 

[Beth Pavell]

Version History:

Spoiler

1.2 : Interaction between Eve and Josh after the battle has been revised
1.3 : Altered dialogue layout in line with common fanfiction convention

Chapter Seven – Better Judgements (Version 1.3)

Joshua​

“Go, Venonat!”

“Magnemite, go!”

The hollow bangs of their Poké Balls opening echoed sharply in the still air. Josh's mind whirred as he analysed the situation. Venonat. Bug/Poison-type. Excellent type advantage -

“Show them your Sleep Powder, Venonat!”

Venonat shook itself violently, throwing out a billowing wave of glittering blue dust. Unconcerned, Magnemite hovered motionless as the cloud spread rapidly over the battlefield.

“Sonic Boom!” Josh ordered. The shockwave sliced across the field with a deep crack, whirring through the Sleep Powder and washing over Venonat. As it cried out in pain the glittering cloud boiled and whirled angrily, sweeping back onto its maker. Caught between the Sonic Boom and its own Sleep Powder, Venonat stumbled about in confusion.

“Venonat!” Benny cried. “Come on buddy, stay awake!”

“Thundershock!”

Magnemite almost casually threw an arching bolt of electricity at the drowsy Venonat, shocking it badly before it could work out what was happening. The smell of ozone cut through the strange sweet smell of burned Sleep Powder. Benny was beginning to look worried. He was starting this battle on the back foot, and Josh could see that he knew it.

Josh watched Benny's Venonat pull itself together and chirp gamely in its echoey voice in spite of its injuries. His own pokémon drifted passively, little yellow sparks snapping lazily off the edges of its magnets. Looks like Magnemite knows it has the advantage, too.

Benny's face screwed up into a frown of concentration. “Alright challenger, you got me good there!” he said, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet. “But you won't win that easy - Venonat, Psybeam!”

Venonat bounded high into the air from a standing start. Bright kaleidoscopic rays burst from its eyes, zigzagging crazily through the air in a whirl of weird colour. Magnemite watched it from the corner of its eye.

“Dodge it!” Josh yelled. Magnemite ignored him. The Psybeam struck home, haloing Magnemite in rippling colours. Venonat landed gracefully and immediately set off at a run. Magnemite tried to turn to watch Venonat as it darted in and out of its blind spots.

“Psybeam, Psybeam! Again and again!”

Venonat launched Psybeam after Psybeam, running in tight little rings around Magnemite as it did so. Every time the little magnet pokémon turned to face its aggressor another Psybeam would strike home from a different angle. Josh shouted commands to dodge over the fizzing psychic power – psychosomatic burn marks were starting to appear on Magnemite's steel body.

Why won't you evade? Josh's hands involuntarily curled into fists. His pokémon was taking serious damage from the relentless barrage despite its natural resistance to psychic attacks. You're getting hurt because you're not listening to me!

“Will ye bloody concentrate?” he roared. “Stop watching and start dodging! Now!”

Venonat spun and launched yet another Psybeam. The zigzagging ray fizzed towards Magnemite -

- and missed as Magnemite ducked beneath the attack. It made a complicated spin on its axes to avoid a follow-up attack that scorched the limbs of an unlucky tree.

“Alright Magnemite! Supersonic.”

Though he was standing well behind the cone of effect Josh could still hear the electronic whine of Magnemite's Supersonic. Caught in the full blast, Venonat should have been beginning to feel dizzy, but it just stood there apparently unaffected. Benny was even smiling, doing nothing to counter the attack. He calmly adjusted his hat and waited for Magnemite to give up.

“My buddy Venonat won't be hurt by a Supersonic. This is a Bug-type Gym, you know. Supersonic happens all the time here,” he said with a grin. “Now let's wrap things up – Sleep Powder, again!”

“You don't learn quickly, do you? Sonic Boom.”

Once again, the cloud of Sleep Powder burst apart from the force of the Sonic Boom passing through it.

“Disable!” Benny called.

“What?” Josh snapped. For the briefest moment both Venonat and Magnemite were haloed with a bluish glow. Josh was beginning to have a creeping suspicion that he'd just been trapped somehow.

“Disable binds the last move used by the target, preventing its further use during the battle, Joshua,” Bugsy said from the sideline. His expression was hard to read.

Josh growled under his breath. He'd been skilfully trapped into giving up his counter-strategy. So Sonic Boom is unusable. Fine. I still have this move …

“Finish this. Thundershock,” he snapped.

Venonat tried to evade just a little too late. Magnemite zapped it thoroughly where it stood. When it was over, sparks were crawling across Venonat's fur, and it was twitching violently.

“Venonat! Can you still go on, buddy?” Benny cried.

“Recall your pokémon, Benny,” said Bugsy. “This battle is over. Victory goes to the challenger.”

From somewhere behind him Josh heard Eve clap her hands in delight. She rushed forward to clap him on the shoulder. “Heyyy!” she said, smiling at him sunnily. “First battle with Magnemite and you win, not bad! Oh ...”

Her smile faded. She'd seen the look on the Gym Leader's face.

“You won that battle, Joshua, but you didn't earn it,” he said bluntly. “You would have lost were it not for type-advantage. I will accept your challenge because you won,” Bugsy paused for a moment. “However, I can't be beaten on type-advantage alone. I suggest you go and bond with your pokémon, and don't come back until you and your magnemite understand each other better.”

Josh's jaw clenched. Didn't earn his victory? After figuring out a powder counter-attack in the time it took to walk to the Gym? Well if Bugsy thought that he, Joshua Cook, was going to stand and be scolded like that by a man wearing a boy scout's uniform, then -

- Magnemite drifted a little closer. It was gazing vacantly at nothing from under its eyelid. Its steel body looked dull, blemished with brown burns from Psybeam impacts. Despite the fact that it had almost nothing to express itself with, Magnemite looked tired.

Without type-advantage, I would have lost. The treacherous little thought put the truth to the matter. Josh knew nothing about Magnemite. He didn't understand its moods, its habits, its limitations … Josh could tell at a glance what kind of mood Bulbasaur was in. When Bulbasaur was feeling tired or ill or just fed-up, Josh knew, every time. What's more, he knew what to do about it. Watching Magnemite's vacant gaze, Josh realised that he hadn't the slightest idea how to treat an injured Magnemite – a living thing in his care.

Josh knew nothing about Magnemite. And as long as he didn't understand his pokémon, he would not be ready to battle for a Gym Badge.

“Return, Magnemite,” he commanded. With a stiff bow to the Gym Leader, Josh strode swiftly from the battlefield. He didn't stop until he was through the doors and out into the morning sun.

“Hey! Wait up a sec,” Eve called. “That was a tough battle, huh? Magnemite listened to you in the end though, and you've won yourself a Gym battle!”

Josh stood and stared at nothing, steadfastly refusing to look at her. For some reason he couldn't quite understand, he resented the Gym Leader's scolding all the more for having been witnessed by Eve.

“... are you ok?” she asked. Still not looking at her, Josh took a deep breath before answering.

“I don't like being talked down to,” he said shortly.

“Bugsy was a little harsh. Having a type-advantage isn't a bad thing, and anyway you were at a disadvantage with a new pokémon too -”

“Eve,” Josh cut in, “he was right. I'm not ready yet.”

Magnemite's Poké Ball shone in the sun. For a brief moment, it almost looked like it had in the moonlight back on Route 32.

“You were right, too. I've learned something about Magnemite. Just not enough,” he said.

“So what are you going to do now?” Eve asked carefully.

“First I'm going to the Pokémon Centre,” Josh said, snapping the Poké Ball back onto his belt. “Then I am going to learn everything I can about Magnemite.”

Josh looked at Eve for the first time since leaving the Gym. She was fiddling with her jacket zip nervously. Feeling a little guilty, Josh forced a smile.

“And then … I am going to train.”

*​

The common room of the Pokémon Centre was bigger and busier than any Pokémon Centre that Josh had yet seen. Not one, but three queues of trainers were lined up in front of the reception desk, which was attended by the Centre nurse and her two teenage daughters. Off to the right, trainers were taking the escalator from the bedrooms on the first floor or heading to the Centre canteen. Over to the left, in the open-plan lounge, a widescreen television showed coverage of recent battles from the Goldenrod City Gym. A few trainers were idly watching while they waited for their pokémon to finish treatment.

Josh drummed his fingers on the desktop, the sound drowned out by the general background buzz of the common room. Eve had sloped off a little earlier, muttering something about needing to stock up on medicines. Since neither of them intended to challenge Bugsy just yet, they'd decided to stay at the Pokémon Centre while he trained and Eve looked for another pokémon to catch.

“Ok, Joshua,” the young Joy said as she handed his trainer's licence back. “Your magnemite's all checked in now. We'll keep you updated on its progress on the bulletin board.”

Josh glanced up at the electronic bulletin board that dominated the back wall of the common room. The huge board displayed the status of all the pokémon undergoing treatment at the Centre. Magnemite's icon flashed up next to Bulbasaur's near the bottom right of the screen, marked with the status 'At Rest'.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Joy asked.

“Oh. Yes, actually! I have something belonging to a pokémon ranger who patrols Union Cave, I think. Could I leave it here?”

“Ohhh, you're that Joshua! Here, this letter was left here for you this morning,” Joy said, handing him a folded-over sheet of notepaper. Josh unfolded the letter, noticing the Poké Ball-and-laurel logo in the corner:

Joshua,

If you are reading this note, then I was correct in my estimation of you. I hope you have learned a little lesson about the mountains. You were lucky that my Onix found you when he did. As for the equipment that you have been so honest as to try to return, please keep the sleeping bag as a gift. It is of old Ranger issue and was destined to be sold on as surplus, but there is plenty of wear left in it, more than enough for your purposes.

Good luck!

Area Captain David Sandoval

Josh thanked the teenage Joy, who was shamelessly trying to read the letter upside-down. As he made his way over to an empty space in the lounge, he realised that he hadn't actually made any plans to hang out with Eve. After leaving the Gym, when they had exchanged phone numbers, it hadn't occurred to Josh to think twice about it.

Grumbling to himself, Josh turned up the volume of the Pokégear velcroed to his jacket sleeve. It was one of the heavy wristwatch-style Pokégears – big, blunt and robust. Already it had been scuffed, soaked and sat on by Bulbasaur, yet it showed no sign of giving in. Though it was inelegant and unfashionable, Josh privately approved of the way his boot had completely failed to dent the fascia after he'd stomped on it.

He sighed and tried to tune out the chatter of the common room. Newspapers were scattered over the lounge, mostly Johto regional papers with the odd local publication. Josh rummaged around until he found what he hoped was there – a single spurned copy of the Punch Times. He smirked at the political cartoon on the front page and started to work his way through the sniggery articles. Halfway through an editorial on the state of the economy, his Pokégear started to ring. That'll be Evelina, he thought, ripping it off his wrist.

“Hullo?” he said.

“Hullo. Finally,” a voice answered tetchily.

“Oh,” Josh said, just as tetchily. “Hi Dad.”

“Your mother's bin trying to call. Where are ye?”

“Azalea Town. I only just got here this morning.”

“Azalea Town,” his father paused for an uncomfortably long moment. “Have ye challenged the Gym Leader yet?”

“I’ve challenged the Gym. Qualified for a Gym Battle, technically. I’ve a-got to do some training afore that, the Leader would beat me as it stands -”

“How dun ye know?” his dad cut in bluntly. “Just go fer it. Ye're a smart boy. Woss the worst that can happen? Ye lose, that’s all.”

“Dad … it's not as simple as that. The trainer battle was hard enough. Yeah, I could fight a speculative battle and if I get smashed who suffers fer it? Is that the action of a responsible trainer?” he said. Josh heard his dad sigh heavily, and he suppressed one of his own. He knew what was coming next.

“Josh, Josh, Josh … you've got eight Badges, eight battles ahead of you. Eight Gym battles that are going to be tough. You’ve got to tek risks.”

Wise words from the man who merely watches pokémon battling on TV, Josh thought waspishly.

“So what have ye done?” Dad said.

“I caught a magnemite,” Josh said hopefully. “Up on the highlands on Route 32.”

“Did ye? Good. Magnemite ain’t easy to handle.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it's a tricky little screwball.”

“You'll have to tell me how ye caught it. I've got to get back to work now, though. Your mother's going to call ye this evening, so watch your phone!”

“Yeah. I'm a-staying in the Pokémon Centre tonight. I'll talk to ye later Dad.”

Josh strapped the Pokégear back onto his jacket sleeve, picking at bits of fluff stuck in the velcro. That was the problem with talking to his dad, right there. He always thought he knew better, about everything. The man managed to find something wrong with every choice he made for himself, and when Josh did things his own way anyway – well, that's when they'd start shouting at each other.

Ding, ding, ding-ding-ding! Trainers looked up at the bulletin board as the Centre's PA system chimed out. Someone's pokémon were healed.

“Joshua Cook, your bulbasaur is fully healed.”

Josh tossed the newspaper aside. There was work to do.

*​

There was a library on the eastern side of the building, crammed into a single room adjacent to the canteen. Most Pokémon Centres had one – licensed trainers could borrow books for free if they returned them to the same Pokémon Centre, or pay a small fee to return them to any Centre in the region. At this time of the day there weren't many trainers browsing the bookshelves. The librarian peered at Josh from behind the counter, as if looking for a book was highly suspicious behaviour.

Josh took a deep breath. To him, libraries smelled of dry words and crackly pages of knowledge quietly fossilising between dust jackets until someone curious needed to know something … somewhere in this library he was sure there was a book that could tell him what he needed to know about his little screwball. In its own way, it would be the key to winning his first Gym Badge.

Josh polished his glasses, and started to train.

Next Chapter: The Beast of the Sea

 

[Beth Pavell]

Responses:

Spoiler

About the dialogue layout. I guess I'm trying to have my cake and eat it too, so to speak. I've always preferred a full break rather than indentations for paragraphing, but I'm trying to group the speech together like typical printed prose. It doesn't entirely work, but the fanfiction conventions for speech looks weird to me.

Speaking of weird, I admit, I pushed my luck a bit far with the Poké Ball description in the last chapter. It's been revised!

Interlude – The Beast of the Sea (Version 1.0)

Under the grey waves, the beast of the sea beat her great wings and picked up speed. Her feathers flashed silver-white when they caught the weak rays of dawn. Forty feet long from her draconic head to the tip of her tail. The sea surged at her passing, waves clashed in her wake. The beast was old, old and strong. In the open ocean nothing could match her - she could swim fastest, dive deepest, and never tire. In the shallow waters off Blue Point Isle, however, things were different.

The pursuing humans kept pace, the saw-toothed buzzing of their jet-skis filling the beast's ears. They had ambushed her in the grey half-light before dawn, twelve of them, appearing out of nowhere with a roar of engines. Try as she might the beast couldn't outrun them, not in these waters. Raising her voice above the din, she let out a high, lilting cry. For those that could understand, it meant: I am here! Be somewhere else!

In a flurry of light the hunters finally released their own pokémon – a whole flock of golduck, almost thirty of them slashing their way through the water. They spread out rapidly, taking up position above, behind, below. The beast instinctively threw up a Safeguard. A group of golduck closed in on Aqua Jets – the beast swept them away with a beat of her wings. Psybeams stabbed into her back, burning away streams of feathers that glittered like silver cinders before they dissolved into the sea.

Chased by Psybeams the beast twisted, undulating like a serpent in an effort to dodge the worst of the attacks. A brace of Water Pulses battered into her belly. In her youth she might have been nimble enough, but now she was old, strong and long. The golduck flock continued to harass her, spreading out to attack from all angles.

This was not the first time that the beast had been hunted by humans. On these islands her kind was well known to humanity, the beast knew. Most of the islanders venerated her kind, but some would always try their luck and try to capture her. These hunters were clever, and had brought cunning pokémon. One-by-one the golduck's eyes shone blue. The beast beat her wings, but it was an effort to move, like swimming through oil. She remembered a time when she was young, when hunters had chased her into the shallows and then used psychic pokémon to pin her down. Driven to near-exhaustion, she'd been forced to unleash the Aeroblast …

Roused to sudden fury she thrashed and writhed like a maniac, her rage churning the sea into froth. They had pushed her too far! She would tolerate these hunters no longer. The beast let out a deep echoing whale-cry, its dreadful harmonics shaking the sea. It was a call that even the gyarados feared. The golduck scattered. They knew what was coming.

Beneath the jet-skis of the hunters, powerful new currents flowed, met, and turned.

Whirlpool! It swirled into savage existence, grabbing the hunter's watercraft and dragging them down into the vortex. The humans were torn from the saddle as the raging waters tossed them around like toys. Those lucky few who were thrown to the edge of the whirlpool were rescued by their golduck, left adrift for a long day until they washed up on the Blue Point shore. The unlucky majority were swallowed by the maelstrom, never to see the shore again.

The silver-white beast leisurely beat her great wings. As she lost interest in the destruction she had wrought the maelstrom calmed, leaving behind nothing but open sea and abandoned jet-skis. Now she raised her voice in lilting whale-song, sweet and melodious as taillow calls at dusk. For those who could understand, her song meant: I am here. Come back to me.

Under the grey waves, the beast of the sea swam on …

… followed by her children.

Next Chapter: Two is Company

 

[Beth Pavell]

Responses:

Spoiler

@kintsugi: You can see why I'm no good at poetry xD. Yes, I am deliberately being coy with the Interlude. Part of it is the problem with narrating from one point of view - Lugia the Beast of the Sea in this case. Rest assured that I am going somewhere with this, though possibly not in the way you'd expect

@GastlyGibus: Chapter One has always been problematic. By rights I should have re-written it from scratch, but what the hell, I've made that bed now. Characters are the backbone of the story, so you needn't worry about Josh staying static! Oh, and you're not the first person to say that my style is unique, though I confess, I'm not sure what is unique about it

@Flaze: Hurrah! So glad my characters ring true. I spend more time fussing about whether Josh and Eve's interactions feel right than any other aspect of the story. Eve in particular is a character that I just can't leave alone.

@Scholar: Damn those technical errors. I spend so much time looking at my own writing that even after a word-for-word proofread I still manage to miss some

@Lance: You're very kind, especially about the Interlude ^^ . I suppose I thought that if I'm going to be writing a character-driven story, then the world needs to feel real as well. It does bug me a little in the anime how everything seems to revolve entirely around pokémon, but in the oddest ways. Every festival seems to be a pokémon festival ("Pokémon windsurfing? What's that?"), but you never see anyone trying to make money off journeying trainers outside of tournaments. Where are the travel lodges and hostels?

Oh, and as for the nicknaming, you have a point. I am going somewhere with nicknames as you may notice in this chapter, see what you think!

@Legacy: I was having a bad day on Wednesday, I needed that little confidence boost, so thank you!

Version History

Spoiler

1.1: Small tweaks to dialogue. Josh and Eve now have slightly different dialogue
1.2 : Changed Pidgeotto gender to female
1.3 : Revised Pidgeotto vs Meowth battle. Revised Pidgeotto's inner monologue

Chapter Eight – Two is Company (Version 1.3)

Joshua​

Pokémon are endlessly fascinating in their incredible diversity, their powers and abilities unlike any other form of life that we know of. They wield elemental forces that range from the mysterious to the spectacular. They heal wonderfully from all manner of injuries - a process that the technology of the Poké Ball accelerates - and they have an instinctive understanding of our languages. It is not for nothing that spiritualists throughout the ages have speculated that humans and pokémon were somehow meant to co-exist.

It is for this reason that I devoted my youth to the understanding of pokémon psychology, and why I chose to write this book. There is nothing remarkable in the character of myself or any of my family that prefers us to the care of pokémon. It is a skill that anyone can develop if they do so with an open heart -

“One cranberry juice aaand one perry. Your lunches will be following in a couple of minutes. Can I get you guys anything else?”

Josh looked up from his book as the waitress set down his drink. It was another bright spring day, and both he and Eve had been determined to stop for lunch at the riverside bistro from the moment they had set eyes on it that morning. The little town of Longwater was a half hour's journey away from Azalea by bus. It had a similar quaint charm, living half in the past with its red-tiled houses, its winding alleyways leading to unexpected courtyards, its ivy-hung walls and window boxes overflowing with flowers. Against all reason, steam driven paddle-ferries plied the waterway, visiting the villages up and down the river. A light wind blew from the northeast, bringing with it the scents of the river and the barest hint of distant redwoods. Sitting outside on the bistro patio, Josh took a long, contented breath and savoured the myriad springtime aromas.

“A bit early in the day, isn't it?” Eve said, raising an eyebrow at the perry.

“A cold perry on a sunny lunchtime? What could be finer?” Josh replied with a smile. Eve was still giving him a sceptical look. “Oh, alright. Normally I would wait, but since we'll be back in Azalea by dinnertime I want to have one now. This is cider country, Eve! And I am reliably informed that Crossbow Summer perry ranks among the best that Longwater has to offer.”

He took an experimental sip of the pale cider. It tasted crisp and clear, with the light, sweet flavour of wepear offset by the sharp tanginess of the alcohol. The perry went down almost as easily as water. Thirsty though he was, Josh resisted the urge to finish half the pint in one pull.

“Oh yes? And who's your reliable informant?” Eve asked playfully.

“My dad.”

“Big drinker, huh?”

“Not really. He's what you might call a connoisseur, though he'd never call himself one. On weekends he has a pint or two of something ordered from a micro-brewery … when I was a teenager he used to give me a sip, and if I could tell him exactly where the beer was brewed I could have a full pint,” he half-smiled at the memory. Eve smiled back at him, leaning forward on the table. She has such a pretty smile, Josh thought, and fiddled with his book reflexively.

“And so are you, by the look of it,” she said, nodding at the book. “Every Trainer A Nurse. It's the best general pokémon healthcare primer around.”

“Oh, do you have a copy?”

“You haven't looked at the inside cover have you?” she replied with a quick wink. Josh opened the front cover – the inside dust jacket showed a photo of a bespectacled Joy in a white lab coat, watching a young Joy play with a totodile. Beneath was a short caption: 'The author, Dr Imogen Joy with her niece Evelina'. It almost looked like a spontaneous snapshot, Dr Imogen watching with a proud smile as the teenage Eve played with the totodile without a hint of self-consciousness.

“So your aunt is a pokémon professor?” he asked.

“Well, sort of! Aunt Immey is the secondary at the Cherrygrove Centre now – oh, that's like the second-in-command of a Pokémon Centre – but way before that she got her doctorate at Celadon University, studied pokémon psychology under Professor Oak, even did a bit of pokémon training as part of her research!” Eve stopped abruptly and contemplated the photo of herself and her aunt. “It was Aunt Immey that helped me get the money together for this journey. Oh, here's our lunch.”

Josh straightened up in his chair while the waitress made her way over, plates in hand. A loud ding! sounded as he accidentally kicked something metallic under the table. “Sorry Magnemite,” he apologised. “You alright there, screwball?”

Magnemite didn't answer. It was trying to think. Its trainer had polished it, before they left the Pokémon Centre that morning. It had been the single most enjoyable experience of its life. Now Magnemite was having to think, really think for the first time. For reasons it couldn't quite understand, Magnemite wanted to please its trainer. I must think about this some more, it thought, and then tried to remember what 'I' meant.

Magnemite's trainer was peacefully disassembling a splendid river trout, while Eve attacked a lentil salad as if it had personally offended her.

“I almost wish I'd ordered the fish myself,” she said.

“You wish, you wish, you'd ordered a fish. Here, try some of mine,” Josh said, loading his fork with a mouthful of trout.

“It does look good,” she admitted. “Hold on, are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You know, you don't have to share -”

“I know. I'm offering.”

“Yeah, but you've paid for it.”

“It's only a taste, Eve!”

“I mean, you're welcome to try my salad -”

“Eat the damn trout!” Josh stretched his arm out a bit further, the fork hovering below Evelina's nose. She still hadn't taken her eyes off it.

Eve leaned over a little shyly and ate the proffered mouthful off Josh's fork. “Mm,” she said indistinctly, “s' good.”

They glanced up at the sound of wings thrashing at the air. A falcon pidgeotto was circling above the bistro, crest feathers blazing a brilliant scarlet in the sun. She looked small for her species, perhaps a feather over two feet from beak to tail.

“Pidgeooo!” she cried triumphantly. “Pidgeot-TO!”

The pidgeotto landed on a convenient lamppost and fixed Josh with an unblinking stare.

“I dun like the way it's looking at me,” Josh said. She was glaring like she was a loaded weapon, aiming at him.

“Don't be silly,” said Eve, reapplying herself to her salad. “All pidgeotto look like that.”

“Ye’ve a-got it backerds,” Josh glanced down at his trout. “Oh no,” he said as the pidgeotto leapt into the air. “No no no, this is mine …”

Josh raised his fork aggressively as the bird bore down on the table. Pidgeotto landed with a thump, ignoring Josh's attempts to stab her, and delivered a painful peck to the ear. Then she was off in a whirl of feathers, leaving behind Josh clutching his ear and Eve shrieking curses.

Pidgeotto retreated to the roof of the bistro with Josh's trout clutched in her talons. She immediately began tucking into her stolen prize. Josh leapt to his feet with a growl.

“Oi! That cost me seven dollars, you pirate!” Josh raged. Then he noticed his upturned glass. “That was my – that was my bloody pint! That tears it! Magnemite, Thundershock!”

Magnemite emerged from its thinking-place under the table. It paused, aimed, and shocked the pidgeotto thoroughly. The fish clamped between her toes burned to a crisp. Josh watched in disbelief as she plunged back into the sky, apparently completely unharmed, climbing with a scream of battle-fury. She heeled over and tumbled into a dive, sabreing down in a bolt of coffee-and-cream feathers.

“Tackle, a Normal-type attack -”

“That's not a Quick Attack?” Eve gasped.

Pidgeotto smashed into Magnemite, sending it spinning away. Magnemite steadied itself and zapped her with another Thundershock as she regained height, rising like an angry soda bubble.

“Look!” Eve called out. “There's a glow, around its feathers!”

She was right. It was hard to see through the glare of the Thundershock, but Josh could just make out a golden haze outlining pidgeotto. Whatever that is, I'll bet it's why Thundershock won't work.

“Alright, Magnemite! Get ready for Sonic Boom,” he commanded. A Poké Ball whizzed past, cracking open to reveal a scruffy black meowth. He took one look at the pidgeotto and unsheathed his claws.

“Sorry Josh, but I want this one!” Eve cried. “Meowth, Fury Swipes!”

Pidgeotto lined up for another attack run on Magnemite, sweeping down even faster than before. Meowth pounced at her and missed as Pidgeotto wrenched aside. She would have executed a perfect dodge – had she not side-slipped into a chair. Meowth was on her in a heartbeat.

“Enough! Get here now!” Eve demanded, Meowth slashing madly at his foe. There was a Poké Ball in her hand.

Eve pitched her Poké Ball with deadly accuracy, striking pidgeotto square on the back before she could take flight again. The Ball rattled and bounced around wildly as the pidgeotto within thrashed and struggled in fury.

The Ball burst open as the capture lock failed. Pidgeotto exploded into the air even before she had properly re-materialised with all the psychotic panic of a trapped predator. She kinked off into an invisible gyre of warm air in a ripple of wingbeats and circled away southeast over the town, calling in triumph. Evelina cursed sincerely. Both she and Josh watched the pidgeotto soar over the roofs of Longwater – here on the eastern side of the river the town tumbled down a steep hill till it met the riverbank. Josh looked back at his spilled perry ruefully. It would have served the blasted pigeon right to have been captured by Eve.

“Sir? Miss? Are you both ok?” A man in a neatly pressed shirt and apron was making his way through the tables towards them. “I'm the owner,” he said, shaking Josh's hand. “And I'm very sorry about that pidgeotto. We've been trying to capture it for a while, but for some reason electric attacks don't affect it at all. If you'd care to reorder then your lunch is on me, with my apologies.”

“What's up that way?” Eve asked, pointing towards the southeast.

“That way? The battlefields are in that direction, by the apricorn trees. Pidgeotto likes to roost there, we think.”

Eve looked up the hill thoughtfully. “Right,” she said. “Come on, Meowth! Let's go bag that bird!”

“Eve, wait!” Josh called after her. “What about our lunch?”

But Eve was already pounding up a flight of stone steps. Josh sighed and held up Magnemite's Poké Ball. “Come on, screwball. Looks like lunch is going to have to wait.”

*​

The cyndaquil blew out a dense Smokescreen, forcing Magnemite to abort its Tackle.

“Way to go, Sori! Now, use Ember!” its trainer ordered. She was a perky black girl in a red tartan miniskirt, and had been fighting hard to keep her advantage over Magnemite. A Zephyr Badge glinted proudly on her lapel. Josh had been trying to get one final clean hit in but her cyndaquil just kept evading Magnemite's attacks.

A cloud of fiery sparks jetted from somewhere inside the smoke, catching Magnemite off-guard. It spun on its axis rapidly to try and throw off the embers clinging to its metal skin.

“Hang in there, screwball! Come on, Sonic Boom, through the smoke!” Josh called. The Smokescreen burst apart as easily as Sleep Powder, the shock wave blowing it apart and tossing the cyndaquil across the concrete battlefield. Both pokémon were looking battered, each snatching a moment to rest while their trainers took stock. Magnemite had battled tenaciously despite its type-disadvantage. It was more focused on the battle than before, Josh was sure of it. After taking direct hits from several Fire-type attacks, Josh felt he owed his pokémon a break.

“Hey. How about we call it a day? I don't know about your cyndaquil, but my screwball here has fought enough,” he said.

“Yeah, ok,” his opponent replied. “Sori's pretty tired too. Good battle, mister!”

She recalled her cyndaquil and took off at a run, leaving Josh alone on the battlefield with Magnemite quietly circling him. He flung himself onto a bench at the edge of the field. The battlefield was surrounded by a chain-link fence, overhung in places by the branches of apricorn trees. The pink and white apricorns were in season, the bright fruits hanging heavily among the budding leaves.

He was about to call Magnemite to him when he remembered what he had read in Dr Imogen's book. 'Magnet pokémon display affection by repeatedly orbiting objects.' Josh smiled at his Magnemite. It was a strange creature, but armed with Dr Imogen's book, he was beginning to understand what made his little screwball tick.

Just then, Eve joined him on the bench, plunking herself down with a “Hmph!” She folded her arms tight across her chest and scowled up at the sky. The soaring pidgeotto was just a dark crossbow-shape against a scrap of grey cloud.

“Still can't catch that pidgeotto, eh?” said Josh.

“Hmph.”

“I've been thinking. I reckon I know how you can catch it.”

“Hmph?”

Josh pointed to the overhanging branches. “White apricorns,” he said.

“White apricorns,” she repeated dully. “White apricorns! Fast Balls! Josh, you're brilliant!” Eve leapt up and carefully selected an apricorn, slicing through the stem with a pocket knife.

“Josh, you're brilliant,” Eve beamed at him. “Hmm … maybe I'll take a couple of colours.”

“Don't thank me too soon. I think you'll find that you owe me lunch.”

“What? I do not!”

“You do, Miss Evelina, because the bistro owner was going to offer us lunch for free but you ran off to catch a pokémon.”

“But pidgeotto was getting away -”

“Free lunch,” Josh countered.

Eve looked ready to keep arguing, but her scowl changed to a smile instead. “Maybe I'd rather take you out to dinner,” she said archly.

“Do I get to choose the restaurant?”

“I don't see why not. You seem to have good taste,” she said with a wink. “Are we square?”

“We're square,” he said. “Come on, let's head back to Azalea! If we're quick you might have your Ball ready for tomorrow.”

*​

Humming happily to herself, Ledyba landed on the damp turf and clicked shut her wing cases. Her armour shone a healthy crimson, flecked with a cluster of irregular black spots.

“Kind of looks like a constellation, doesn't it,” Josh said thoughtfully. “A bit like Lyra.”

“You think so?” Eve replied.

“Sure. That big spot there could be Vega. And there, R Lyrae, beta Lyrae ...”

Ledyba buzzed her way over to her trainer and landed on her head. “Maybe I should call you Lyra then,” Eve said. “Yes. Lyra's a good name.”

*​

Pidgeotto circled slowly over Longwater. She had lost her, and now she couldn't find her again. She was looking for the female human with the pink crest, the one with the savage black meowth. There was a rattata, engrossed in a half-eaten bagel. An obvious target. She ignored it: where was the human? There was a pichu, foolishly exposed on a lawn. She ignored it: where was the human? She wanted to take all the human’s food. And slam her talons into the meowth.

She eventually mugged a passing human for his hamburger, but it just wasn't the same.

*​

Sunset was fading into twilight when Josh got back to the Pokémon Centre. He found Eve relaxing outside with her ledyba. She'd let down her rings, the loose locks falling to the small of her back.

Lyra buzzed something at Eve. “Are you sure?” she replied. “You're usually too sleepy around this time.”

“Dyyy-ledyyy,” Lyra said cryptically.

“Ok then. Be back when the stars come out,” Eve told her. Lyra spiralled into the air and flew off into the dusk.

“You can understand her?” Josh asked uncertainly.

“The words she said? No. But I understand the meaning well enough,” she giggled at his surprised expression. “It's not that unusual. You can already read your bulbasaur's moods, can't you? I wouldn't be surprised if you started to understand his speech before long. It happens with most trainers, sooner or later. Anyway,” she added, “I'd best shower and change since we're going to dinner.”

“Erm, Eve? We can eat at the cafeteria here if you like.”

“Mm-mm,” she said, shaking her head firmly. “I said I'd take you out to dinner, and I meant it. And, um, it's nice to have company … I had a lot of fun today.”

*​

“I'll see you when you've won your Badge!” She had meant it in a playful way, but to Josh it still felt like a vote of confidence. He had wanted to win anyway - for the sake of proving Dad wrong, and for the sake of his own pride. But now he also wanted to win because of the confidence Eve had in him. She was probably in Longwater by now, Fast Ball in hand.

He leaned against the bole of a chestnut tree and took a few deep breaths. The Gym felt more like a forest than a building. The strategy he'd devised should work, but … Bugsy might throw anything at him. There was no way he could research all the possibilities. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to breathe slowly. When his heart rate dropped, Josh headed to the dirt battlefield in the middle of the Gym.

“So Joshua, come to challenge me already?” Bugsy called. He was standing up in the branches of a tall elm, his retinue of bug catchers clustered below.

“I've come here to win a Hive Badge,” Josh called back, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

Bugsy shrugged. “I accept all challengers. Benny, would you fetch the referee? Tell him Joshua has arrived for a two-on-two battle. Brandon, hold the ladder please.”

They took their places on the field while they waited for Benny to return with the referee. After a while Bugsy said, “Have you ever heard the saying 'He who learns the rules of the Bug pokémon, learns to rule the Bug pokémon'?”

“No. As I recall, I was told to go and bond with my Electric pokémon,” Josh replied evenly. He was faintly pleased to see Bugsy raise a quizzical eyebrow, as if not quite sure what to make of his remark.

Josh was still focussing on keeping his breathing steady when the referee arrived, standing out in sharp contrast to the Gym Trainers in his black and gold uniform. With a flourish of his flags – red for Bugsy, green for Josh – the referee announced the rules.

“This official Gym battle between the challenger Joshua Cook of Mulberry Town and the Gym Leader Bugsy of the Azalea Town Gym is about to commence! Each trainer will use two pokémon and only the challenger may make substitutions! A Hive Badge is at stake!”

My pride is at stake.

“And … begin!”

“You had better be ready, Joshua! Go Spinarak!”

Stay calm. You can do this. “Magnemite! Let's win this.”

There was a moment of absolute stillness. Magnemite hung motionless, unfazed by Spinarak staring back with a spider's patient menace. There was something unnerving about the way it stood perched on the tips of its yellow legs, beady black eyes giving away nothing. Your move, Bugsy.

Bugsy broke cover first. “Use String Shot,” he yelled. Spinarak went from statue-still to lightning-fast. Magnemite instinctively dodged the String Shot and retaliated with a Thundershock, but Spinarak was already moving, somersaulting into the trees on the end of a silken safety-line.

“Thundershock, again,” Josh said.

“Webs, Spinarak.”

Chased by Thundershocks, Spinarak zipped from tree-to-tree leaving behind trip-lines as it went. It moved with sudden bursts of frantic movement, all skittering legs and flying String Shot, and before long it had spun a net of silk over the whole battlefield.

But Josh had spotted a mistake. “Sonic Boom,” he ordered calmly. The Sonic Boom sounded off with the familiar crashing ckroom that Josh was beginning to love, accompanied by a clatter of snapping threads. In one swift attack, Magnemite ripped Spinarak's net to ragged shreds.

“He who learns the rules of the Bug pokémon, learns to rule the Bug pokémon,” Josh quoted. “Spinarak spun its web too taut.”

“... very clever, Joshua. Let's see if you can figure this out – Shadow Sneak!”

Darting into the gloom beneath the branches, Spinarak melted into the shadows and disappeared from sight. Josh was instantly suspicious. Why Shadow Sneak? A relatively weak Ghost-type attack should barely affect Magnemite with its Steel-typing. But Spinarak hadn't attacked – it had melted into the shadows beneath the trees as perfectly as if it was not there at all. What are you up to, Bugsy?

“On your guard, Magnemite. As soon as you see Spinarak, zap it.”

“Sorry Joshua, but it won't be that easy. Use Night Shade!”

Black rays like the negative of a Psybeam lanced out from the gloom, smashing into Magnemite's left magnet with a flash of shadow. The blast shaded to a sinister red at the edges, throwing out shadows rather than glare. Shadow Sneak was never intended to be an attack, it was camouflage. Josh racked his brain, trying to remember the effects of Night Shade. It was a Ghost-type attack, but why then was Magnemite so easily injured by it? Volleys of Night Shades shot out from the trees. Many missed, but too many found their mark. Josh winced as Magnemite let out a grating screech – one of its magnets had bent out of shape. Switching for Bulbasaur won't solve anything. I can't see Spinarak and neither can Magnemite. Night Shade bypasses Steel-type resistance somehow …

Josh realised he was in trouble.

*​

Pidgeotto was getting angry. A ledyba, a damn bug, was challenging her to battle! What was worse, this bug wasn't afraid of her! She just couldn't squash it, try as she might, this brave little ledyba that fought for the female human with the pink crest. She didn't want this.

She wanted to battle the meowth!

Pidgeotto decided that she had had enough. She climbed sharply to gain some height, fully expecting the ledyba to follow. No matter. She was fast and nimble, and could out climb any mere bug. Wheeling round, she glared down at the ledyba and the pink-crested human far below. Time to make an end of it!

Rolling into a dive, Pidgeotto swept her wings back and plummeted like a meteor. A few quick flaps of her wings corrected her course, a barrel roll compensated for ledyba's sluggish dodge. Next, the talons swung forward, six gleaming claws ready to crush ledyba once and for all. Less than a second before impact, there was a flash of green and then -

It was like flying into a brick wall.

Disoriented and half-conscious, Pidgeotto tumbled to earth. The pink-crested human threw a ball at her, a red, yellow and white ball …

*​

Magnemite narrowly evaded another Night Shade. It flicked a Thundershock into the trees, guessing at Spinarak's position and failing.

“If you can't cope with surprises, how do you expect to win one Badge, never mind eight?” Bugsy said. “You should probably quit now rather than lose completely.”

Josh ignored him. Calm down and think, you fool! Spinarak hadn't stepped out into the sun since using Shadow Sneak. That must mean it could only hide in the shadows. But surely it couldn't hide in just any shadows, it would still need to be able to see Magnemite. Which means that it's probably hiding in the widest patch of shadow …

There. A space overhung by the evergreen spray of a cypress. “Magnemite!” he called, pointing with an outhrust arm. “Sonic Boom that area now!”

Whether it was out of trust, Josh didn't know, but Magnemite didn't even hesitate. It simply spun, and fired. And fired. And fired.

Next Chapter: Scary Shiny Glasses

Atlas - Cider Country:

Spoiler

The perry Josh orders at the bistro was inspired by an actual perry I ordered in Padstow last year. Cornish Orchards is indeed a fine cider to sip on the Padstow harbour front when you have nothing better to do. The town of Longwater is based heavily on the blink-and-you'll forget-it town at the beginning of Celebi: Voice of the Forest. I have no reason for this other than because I liked the look of it, although originally I had intended to fold the forest in the movie into the Ilex Forest and have our heroes visit Arborville

 

[Beth Pavell]

Spoiler: Responses

@Flaze Wow, a lot of little sighs of relief from me! Pacing was tricky for this chapter, no doubt. Trying to write for two characters in different places and develop pokémon personalities = lots of scene breaks. There was originally going to be a longer montage, but though I might have enjoyed writing it, it would have been a lot of words for the sake of Warm and Fuzzy Feeling

@zookinator Why thank you! I do sometimes wonder whether anyone laughs at the silly moments

@kintsugi As I mentioned to Flaze above, this was a tricky one to pace, so I'm glad it's more or less worked out. Regarding Magnemite, I do take your point. In the first chapter plan I had more of Josh and Magnemite but it felt like the point was being belaboured somewhat. This isn't the end of the strange pokémon that went wandering off in Chapter Four, though!

@AetherX I GET FIRST REVIEW HAHA This story is quite a niche plot, I suppose, by the standards of pokémon fanfiction. I see it as the kind of story you can read easily as a break from more epic stories like, oh I don't know, Unpredictable In answer to your question, I often go for walks and tend to naturally pay attention to my surroundings anyway - but it's something anyone can do, as I mentioned in the Academy. I personally think it's well worth learning the details of the world around you. This is why I can now tell the difference between an oak and a beech, or why such odd town names like Shepton Mallet exist

Spoiler: Version History

1.1 : Eve now says "by the gods" not "by God"
1.2: Imogen's e-mail to Eve now discusses Pidgeotto psychology. Eve's response explains that Pidgeotto is a subspecies

Chapter Nine – Scary Shiny Glasses (Version 1.2)

Evelina​

Evelina skidded through the Gym's automatic doors and legged it through the trees. Dry leaf litter crackled beneath her boots. I hope I haven't missed it! From up ahead came the sights and sounds of battle - the high-pitched sizzle of Thundershocks, Night Shade rays flickering through the trees. Leaping over a gnarled tree root, Eve thumped to a halt behind the trainer's box.

Josh didn't appear to notice. He was concentrating on the battle, on his magnemite hovering over the middle of the field. Bugsy's pokémon – presumably a spinarak – seemed to be hiding somewhere in the trees off to the left. How much of the battle have I missed? Josh was shifting his weight from foot to foot, as if the soles of his boots were burning.

“If you can't cope with surprises, how do you expect to win one Badge, never mind eight?” Bugsy said. “You should probably quit now rather than lose completely.”

Eve felt a pang of disappointment shoot through her chest. Was the battle really going that badly? But Josh said nothing of quitting. Instead he was methodically scanning the treeline - trying to spot Bugsy's pokémon, perhaps.

“Magnemite!” he called, pointing with an outhrust arm. “Sonic Boom that area now!”

Magnemite spun and locked onto its target with remarkable speed. For a brief second Eve wondered whether Magnemite could see something that she couldn't - or whether it was trusting to its trainer's commands – and then it was blasting away with Sonic Boom. Branches snapped and foliage shredded; the shockwaves bulldozed the leaf litter and scoured the soil. From somewhere in the trees came a panicked “Spinaa!” and a thump.

“How the hell ...” Bugsy gasped in shock. The referee edged forward for a closer look.

“Spinarak is unable to battle! Magnemite wins!” he called. Eve suppressed a cheer with some difficulty. She didn't want to distract him, not at this critical moment.

“I don't know how you figured out where Spinarak was hiding. I'm wondering whether it was a lucky guess,” Bugsy said.

“Calculation,” Josh replied.

“Well, consider into your calculations the ashigaru to scyther's samurai – Beedrill! Attack stance!”

The Beedrill that emerged from the Poké Ball was a fine example of its species. Three feet long, with a glossy golden carapace, strong limbs, and beautifully proportioned wings. And disciplined, too. Most beedrill were berserkers, full of nervous energy. This one hovered almost motionlessly a few feet in the air. It immediately took a stance, thrusting its tail stinger forward, right arm locked out, left held at a right angle above its head ready to stab forwards.

If Josh felt any elation from his victory, he didn't show it. He looked up at the ceiling, for some cryptic reason, before recalling Magnemite. Smart move. If the battle had been hard-fought, then Magnemite would probably be knocked out in short order. This way, the Poké Ball would allow it to heal a little and become his holdout pokémon.

“Battle's on, Bulbasaur!” Josh called out. Bulbasaur shouted no battle-cries upon entering the field, instead choosing to mimic his trainer's composure. Eve couldn't help but look at the seed pokémon with a professional eye. Bulbasaur's bulb was a handsome velvety forest green, his scales shiny and supple, closer to green than teal in colour. She was a little impressed by his lean physique – captive bulbasaur often tended to develop a greedy streak and needed a firm trainer to stop them overeating.

To her slight surprise, Josh took the initiative. “Vine Whip,” he ordered hesitantly. A strange move, Eve thought, given Beedrill's double-resistance to Grass-type attacks, but one that would allow Bulbasaur to attack from beyond the reach of those vicious stingers.

“Defence stance, Beedrill!” Bugsy countered, his beedrill snapping into a new stance - reorienting itself to face Bulbasaur side-on, pulling back its tail stinger and bringing its left arm down, tight across the thorax. Bulbasaur lashed at it from all sides, striking at the wings, the thorax, the abdomen. With practiced ease Beedrill parried and blocked, deflecting the strongest attacks and ignoring others completely.

“I think that's enough waiting around,” said Bugsy. “Use your Agility!”

The low drone of Beedrill's wings rose to a buzzsaw wail. It zipped around the field in irregular loops, easily dodging the flailing vines that tried in vain to swat it from the air. Bulbasaur grunted “Bulba! Bulba!” with every attack.

“Don't try and follow it Bulbasaur,” Josh said. “Use Growth, and let it come to you.”

Deep within Bulbasaur's bulb, a soft green phosphorescence flickered into life, eerily beautiful in its strangeness. Yellow motes of light lit up from nowhere, dancing and flirting around the swell of his bulb like fireflies.

“Saaaur!” Bulbasaur howled with exhilaration, bathed in the glow of his own phosphorescence. Seizing its chance Beedrill slashed down with its stinger, drawing a thin red line down Bulbasaur's face before cutting a deep gash on the backstroke. Faint green after-images followed behind the stinger, brighter on the second stroke. Fury Cutter. The third Fury Cutter missed as Bulbasaur smashed it to the ground with a Growth-assisted Tackle. Quick though it was, Beedrill only just managed to dodge Bulbasaur's attempt to trample it where it lay.

“You're doing great, Bulbasaur, keep it up!” Josh called.

“Good, Beedrill! Now swarm Bulbasaur with Twineedle!”

Wings wailing out a harsh buzz, Beedrill plummeted vertically down, stingers poised and ready. The first strike whistled past Bulbasaur's flank and ploughed into the dirt; the second caught him behind the ear, the third stabbed at his neck. Bulbasaur tried to drive the poison bee off with Vine Whips – Beedrill slid easily aside and attacked from the flank, perforating his bulb with a flurry of Twineedles. Josh watched, jaw clenched, as Beedrill switched flanks with a mid-air roll, slashing with Fury Cutter as it went.

“It's all about speed. Nothing can match a Bug pokémon that's been trained to move,” said Bugsy confidently. He looked relaxed, sure of his strategy and sure of his pokémon, giving orders with an arm outstretched. It was quite common for trainers to make all kinds of grand gestures during the heat of battle – Eve knew that she herself had a tendency to snap her fingers a lot – but Josh hardly moved. Arms folded, he just stood there in the trainer's box with an air of measured concentration. I know it's all a battle persona, but it's kinda, well ... cool.

Yet Eve saw an expression on his face she'd seen once before. Behind those dark eyes the cogs in his head were whirring. She half-expected the sun to reflect off his glasses dramatically.

“Bulbasaur!” Josh shouted. “I need you to trust me! Don't aim this next attack!”

“Bulbasaur!” he protested.

“I know you can do it! I just need you to trust me! Sleep Powder!”

Sleep Powder mushroomed into the air, a heavy, heady cloud that settled around Bulbasaur like veil. Beedrill rose in panic and blundered straight into the powder. Fighting to stay airborne, it zigzagged drowsily out of the reach of Tackle. Bugsy was yelling encouragement, yelling at Beedrill to stay awake.

“Quick! Give it a Leech Seed barrage!”

Bulbasaur let fly with a shower of Leech Seeds, the seeds raining down around Beedrill. With nowhere for it to go three found their mark, wrapping the bee in a thicket of tendrils. I don't know if he knows it yet, but Josh has got this battle won.

“Attack stance! Give it everything you've got!” Bugsy shouted. He's panicking! Beedrill surged forwards, stingers stabbing with all the berserker fury of its wild cousins.

“Keep it in front of you! Heal yourself if you have to,” Josh ordered. Bugsy's pokémon was tiring with the Leech Seeds rapidly sapping away its vitality. Each strike was slower than the last, and Bulbasaur seemed to know it. He refused to let Beedrill slip out of his field of vision, constantly herding it back into sight with his Vine Whips. Finish it! One good strong Tackle and it's over!

Bulbasaur reclaimed one of his Leech Seeds, his wounds visibly sealing up before Eve's eyes. Beedrill landed with a stagger – too tired to fly, its legs shaking with the effort of standing up. Call it, referee! Bulbasaur reached out and grabbed Beedrill's stingers, effectively disarming it. Beedrill thrashed and kicked in a futile tug-of-war.

With a certain degree of care, Bulbasaur lifted Beedrill and smashed it against a tree, again and again, until finally, it stopped struggling. Eve's eyes were on the referee. Call it, damn you!

Up swept the green flag.

“Beedrill is unable to battle! The victory goes to the challenger, Joshua Cook!”

“YES!” Eve punched the air, her pent-up excitement bubbling up like soda fizz. Surprised by her outburst, Josh turned just in time to be nearly bowled over as one hundred and twenty pounds of young womanhood threw her arms around his neck. For a brief, horrible moment all Eve could think of was what a complete fool she had made of herself … and then he was wrapping his arms around her, and laughing.

“Um, congratulations?” she said redundantly after they broke apart, and giggled. Josh gave her an odd, perplexed look.

Having finished recalling his Beedrill, Bugsy had been waiting tactfully for them to break apart. “I was merciless, but you beat me anyway,” he said. “You've earned this Joshua – the Hive Badge.”

The round metal badge shone bright and new in the springtime sun, black and red like a ledyba's back. Josh took it between finger and thumb, staring at his prize. Eve wondered what he was thinking.

“You know, Bugsy,” he said slowly, “when I came here to challenge you, I wasn't thinking about the Badge. But now I'm holding it in my hands, despite the fact that I didn't really want it till now, I can't remember the last time I was so happy to achieve anything.”

“I think you've got potential, Joshua, and I'm not just saying that,” Bugsy said. “You strategise well, and you can definitely think on your feet. What I'm not seeing yet is the passion. And that's something you can only find yourself.”

“Oh, hey!” Eve broke in. “You should get your Badge scanned at the Pokémon Centre!”

“Scanned?” Josh replied.

“Each Gym Badge you win allows you to claim PokéGelt,” Bugsy explained. “PokéGelt is a currency that you can exchange for pokémon-related items and services. It's banked on your licence, so you can claim your Gelt at any Pokémon Centre. Oh, and Eve? If you've come to challenge me, I'm afraid it'll have to wait a while. Come back around five o'clock.”

“That's great. I'll be ready then,” Eve replied.

I just hope Josh will want to stay to watch my battle.

*​

From: Imogen Joy ([email protected])
Sent: 1 April 2012 22:13:34
To: Evelina Joy ([email protected])

Eve,

Remember that pidgeotto are very uncomplicated pokémon. It may be wary after capture (Pidgeotto usually are), but it has been attacking humans for their food. Strange behaviour for a rural pidgeotto. Maybe it likes being around humans – keep talking to it through the Poké Ball to acclimatise it. Keep a firm hand, in any case, because it will be impulsive. When in doubt, battle and find out!

I wish I could be there! I never got the chance to visit Azalea while the flowers were in bloom. How did you like Longwater? You should take the paddle-ferry up river to the Ilex Forest. Trust me, leave the boat at Withy End and walk on to Arborville. There are trainer's trails that will take you round Lake of Life Reserve through the Heartwoods to the Ilex Forest proper.

I still think that you should talk to your mother. If you won't call her then at least e-mail her. I know that you don't believe me, but she misses you and would love to hear about your adventures.

*​

From: Evelina Joy ([email protected])
Sent: 2 April 2012 12:24:16
To: Imogen Joy ([email protected])

We've been over this. If Mum really wanted to hear about my adventures then she would have supported me in the first place. It's my help around the Centre that she misses. I've made up my mind, and that's that. Anyway, it's not like she has no idea what I'm doing – I have to stay at Centres, remember?

I caught that pidgeotto. Had to use a Fast Ball to do it, but I caught it. Actually her, she’s a falcon, not a tiercel. Turns out she has the Motor Drive ability – isn't that crazy? The Pokédex says it’s a subspecies. Falco anaemos merlinii. Do you know it? The ecology says they specialise in pikachu, which explains Motor Drive. I want to spar a few times before the Gym, see what happens. I'll be battling Bugsy this evening.

I haven't decided which route to take next. It's something I don't want to decide until after the battle. Let you know how it goes.

Eve

*​

“Meowooooo!” Meowth howled piteously as Eve dragged him to his doom. His claws scrabbled and gouged at the floor but it was no use. She had a steel grip, both hands locked tight around his tail. He had sensed that something was wrong the moment she'd let him out his Poké Ball. Growing up as an alley-tom had taught him to run at the first sign of trouble, but Eve could move faster than a human had any right to.

[Somebody stop her! She's no nurse, she's a monster!] he howled. [Call the cops! Confiscate her trainer's licence!]

Eve took no notice. Meowth's increasingly frantic hollering was drawing attention from the other trainers in the Pokémon Centre. Some looked annoyed at the din. Others – the cat lovers, most likely – looked on in horror. Josh had staked out a space by the lounge for her, where he was test-pitching his new tent. Next to him was what Meowth so dreaded – a plastic basin of warm water.

Eve seized her pokémon by the scruff. “You are having a sodding bath, whether you like it or not!” she hissed.

[This crazy bitch is trying to drown me!] Meowth yowled. [Murder! Murder! Mur-blbl-bbl-blr!]

Eve gave him a thorough dunking in the tub before bringing him up for air. “Shut. Up. And put those claws away, because if you scratch me, by the gods you will regret it!”

Meowth watched her sullenly, water dripping off the ends of his drooping whiskers. [MUR-bbl-blubl-bll!]

“Is that really necessary?” Josh asked with an amused smile.

“I'll have no grubby pokémon on my team,” she said, methodically scrubbing Meowth's fur.

[Don't act so proud. I can smell your pits from here, pinko.]

“At least I don't wash my hair with spit!” Eve snapped. His constant struggles splashed an especially large spray over her polo shirt, and she snarled in annoyance. Meowth quailed, sensing that he'd gone too far.

She was somewhat relieved to see Josh pay no attention to the damp spectacle. “Ok, I'm familiar with this thing now,” he said. “Pass me my boots?”

Josh's boots were a solid-looking pair of hobnailed brown hiking boots. They seemed to be the only item of clothing he bothered to look after – unlike his scuffed Pokégear, faded jumper and fraying jacket, his boots were freshly cleaned and polished.

“These are quite heavy,” she said, passing them over. Meowth took the opportunity to make a valiant bid for freedom. Without really thinking, Eve seized him and dragged him back in.

“They should be. They're reinforced toe to backstay with aron steel,” he replied casually.

Eve flipped a sceptical double-take and realised that he wasn't joking. “Aron steel? Where on earth did you buy them?”

“I didn't. I made them. Well, with help. I was on holiday once, on Dewford Island. There's a craftsman there who makes aron steel the traditional way, almost the last to do so. Mostly he makes pocket knives and the like to sell to tourists. Anyway, one day I went in to buy a knife and we got talking. He ended up taking me on as apprentice for the week,” he smiled fondly. “He was so happy to find a young person who was actually interested in learning from him.”

“Hold on, hold on, back up! You made aron steel? Like, shirt off and ringing hammer?”

“Well … yeah. It was hot in front of the forge,” he replied, embarrassed.

The mental image of Josh stripped to the waist, hammering away at an anvil was so strange that Eve wanted to laugh. She forced herself not to; it would be cruel to make him think she was laughing at him.

“Hey, where's Magnemite gone?” she asked. Magnemite had been let out of its Poké Ball to be charged and had been behaving itself so far.

“Oh no,” Josh said, “Magnemite! Magnemite! Leave that bloody pikachu alone!”

Still in his socks, he awkwardly ran to try and haul his pokémon away from the spooked pikachu it was pestering. Eve really did laugh then – the struggling pair were the centre of attention, Josh cursing and threatening while Magnemite did its level best to get near the pikachu. He'll be cuddling that metal ball later. For all that they didn't see eye-to-eye, Eve could see they were beginning to develop an affection for each other.

And what about you, Evelina Joy? The last two days had been unexpectedly fun. Since leaving Cherrygrove City, Eve had been quite content to adventure on her own. She wasn't quite sure what she expected to happen when she invited Josh to the café, but it had turned out to have been one of her better ideas. He was good company. You might look at him and see only the bookish trainer, but beneath that was a woodsman, a steelsmith … full of odd surprises. Someone who went climbing down onix-burrows to get out of the rain was someone she wanted to get to know better.

Part of Eve wondered whether she should even be feeling this way. She'd only known Josh two short days, after all. They would soon be going their separate ways, probably for good. Too soon. How long has it been since I last clicked with someone so well?

“I just fed you, you overgrown ball bearing!” Josh had finally managed to restrain Magnemite in a bear hug. Red and blue bolts were crackling between the poles of Magnemite's magnets. Before she could shout a warning it blasted out a halo of coloured sparks which promptly earthed themselves on Josh's arms.

“OW! What was that for?” he said, sounding more hurt than angry.

“Congratulations, Josh,” Eve called. “Your screwball learned Thunder Wave.”

“I'm so very proud,” he replied dryly.

Eve's smile didn't last long. What do I do about this? She forgot about scrubbing and automatically started scratching her pokémon behind the ears.

Meowth looked up, confused. [Something wrong, boss?]

“Just thinking, buddy. Just thinking.”

Next Chapter: The Question

Atlas - The Geography of Azalea:

Spoiler

First of all, the bath scene was adapted from a Weekly Prompt, so thanks are due to @LightningTopaz

There are a few things I can say about this chapter. The geography of the Azalea Town area isn't quite as it appears in the games – as I mentioned in the Chapter Eight Atlas, the town of Longwater and the river are inspired by Celebi: Voice of the Forest. The Heartwoods, then, are the forest around the Lake of Life that we see in the movie. And trainer's trails? Well, here in Britain the National Trust has little paths and walks all over the place, usually marked by wooden signs bearing the acorn logo of the Trust. I imagine that Johto probably has something similar for the use of travelling trainers.

Atlas - PokéGelt:

Spoiler

PokéGelt is an odd name, I grant you. “Gelt” is Yiddish slang for “money”, though it also has roots in German. The idea of PokéGelt comes from thinking about how paying for a Gym challenge would work. Under this system, poorer trainers are effectively subsidised by the Pokémon League which would allow more people to be able to take the challenge. The money feeds right back into the sport as PokéGelt has to be spent on things like travel equipment, amenities such as Pokémon Centre canteens, and other pokémon-related paraphernalia

 

[Beth Pavell]

Spoiler: Responses

Couple of general comments – Thanks to everyone who gave feedback, I guess you already know I'm grateful due to the “like” on every review, but it doesn't hurt to repeat. It's nice to know that the Josh/Eve dynamic is so well received!

@Tophat Dragoneye: I do take the point on character dialogues. Josh and Eve tend to end up using the same vocab if I'm not careful – I've been trying to give them each a more individual voice of late, you might notice they use slightly different curses, for example.

Eve … Eve's a tricky one to develop. She already knows what she wants, or at least has a much clearer idea of what she's doing and why. This chapter shows some of her complexities, I hope!

@Thabet: Funny that the two chapters you should end up reading would be the most experimental, so to speak. The switch in perspective to the pokémon is cheating, I agree, and it's something I intend to do sparingly. In Chapter Eight, I see what you mean about the scene changes. In hindsight perhaps the vignettes are a bit too snappy for their own good

Chapter Ten – The Question (Version 1.0)

Evelina​

“This official Gym battle between the challenger Evelina Joy of Cherrygrove City and the Gym Leader Bugsy of the Azalea Town Gym is about to commence! Each trainer will use three pokémon and only the challenger may make substitutions! A Hive Badge is at stake!”

Ok, Eve. Mind in the battle now. Late afternoon was turning to evening, and her shadow streamed out long and black, turned into a distorted giant by the setting sun. Ledyba – Lyra – had been unusually active near sunset these past few days when she'd normally be lethargic and sleepy. She wondered whether Bugsy would try and capitalise on the time of day by using a crepuscular or nocturnal pokémon … a venonat, maybe.

“And - begin!”

“Ok Miss Joy, let's see what you can do! Go, Beedrill!”

Left jacket pocket, Poké Ball, not Fast Ball. Pokédex, back jeans pocket. “Lyra! You have the honour!”

Lyra materialised in mid-air, jabbing with each of her little fists in turn. [C'mon, c'mon, I ain't scared of you, stripy!] she buzzed, eager as always.

Eve wasted no time in making the first move. “Mach Punch!” she ordered, and Lyra shot forward, crossing the field in less than a second. She landed a blow square between Beedrill's eyes and immediately whirled round to present her armoured back. Beedrill's retaliatory Twineedle scored a thin line across her carapace. Lyra spun, fists flying, but she just wasn't quick enough – Beedrill smoothly parried away the Comet Punches.

Wrong pokémon. What was I thinking? “Ledyba, good. Come back!” Eve said, and recalled Lyra. What she needed now was raw ferocity. Right jacket pocket … I've got to get some belt clasps or something when all this is over.

“It's your turn Meowth!” she shouted. His claws glinted as he leapt yowling from his Poké Ball. Using Hone Claws as soon as he was released was a sneaky trick that Meowth had taught himself. Ragged whiskers held flat against his face, he shifted into his favourite pouncing position.

“Change your pokémon all you like, I'll still be ready for you,” said Bugsy. “Go Beedrill, attack stance! All-out attack!”

With a piping buzz, Beedrill took to the air, hovering cautiously for a moment before diving on Meowth, tail stinger first. It had deliberately chosen to attack from vertical as it had with Bulbasaur, this time to make counter-attacks awkward to execute. Meowth stood his ground, waiting while the vicious stinger plummeted towards his neck until -

“Double Team!” Eve called. Beedrill stung only dirt, having impaled a shadowy copy that vanished as soon as it was struck. Suddenly it was surrounded by leaping, hissing, scratching cats. Charms and claws flashed in the chaos. Eve was irritated to see Beedrill patiently slash through the copies, winnowing away the fakes in an attempt to find the real Meowth.

The real Meowth slunk round behind his opponent, pounced and delivered a powerful Cut right across its thorax, ripping through a hind wing with a sound like tearing paper. Meowth landed, rolled, and used Double Team again to cover his escape.

“Fly, Beedrill,” Bugsy ordered. “Find the real one, you can do it!”

Eve gave no orders of her own – she knew she could trust Meowth to press the attack. Bugsy's pokémon took to the air, Fury Cutting at the Double Team. Eve kept her eye on Meowth as he approached from below, waited, leapt with claws outstretched …

But Beedrill twisted its tail and stung Meowth hard, sending him thumping into the dirt. Josh let out a sympathetic groan of dismay. Meowth lay crumpled on the battlefield. He's not hurt that badly. The referee moved forward for a closer look, as did Beedrill. For a moment it might have looked as if it was all over, until Meowth suddenly raked Beedrill across the face.

“Beedrill!” Bugsy cried out as Meowth became an angry ball of howling fur and claws. Fury Swipes almost seemed too tame a name for the attack – Meowth scratched and slashed as fast as he possibly could. Buzzing in distress, Beedrill tried and failed to take flight. A faint yellowish-green glow played about its stingers.

“Quick! Twineedle attack!” Bugsy called. With some effort, his pokémon held off the furious meowth with one arm while drawing the other back. It thrust with its stinger as hard as it could, stabbing Meowth full in the chest, pitching him bouncing and skidding down the length of the field.

“No way!” Eve shouted in complete disbelief.

[Oof. I'm alright boss, just winded me,] Meowth wheezed, struggling painfully slowly to his feet.

The referee disagreed. “Meowth is unable to battle. Beedrill wins!” he declared with a flourish of the red flag. Eve bit back a curse as she recalled Meowth.

“It's not your fault,” she told him through the Poké Ball. From the sidelines, Josh gave her an encouraging smile. Eve was damned if she was going to lose this battle in front of him. She selected what she hoped would be the right Ball, “You and me, we're in this together,” she told it. “Pidgeotto! You have the honour!”

Pidgeotto burst from the Fast Ball like a comet, soaring over Eve's head as she re-materialised. It looked like Aunt Immey was right about Pidgeotto. After a few sparring matches during the afternoon she seemed to have picked up the concept of following orders in battle - something that might have a lot to do with her interacting with Meowth and Lyra. Or maybe it was talking to her through the Poké Ball that helped. Oh well, here goes …

“So, Pidgeotto is your new pokémon? Flying-type or no Flying-type, we're not backing down!” said Bugsy. “Use your Toxic Spikes Beedrill!”

Beedrill spun like a top, throwing out a cloud of what looked like purple caltrops that glistened suspiciously. Eve scanned the attack with her Pokédex.

“Toxic Spikes, a Poison-type attack. Classified as an entry hazard, Toxic Spikes inflict the Poison status on any enemy pokémon entering the field.”

“Flying will only save you for so long. Once your pokémon touches the ground, the Toxic Spikes are activated,” Bugsy continued. “So what do you do now, Miss Joy?”

An idea began to form in the back of Eve's mind. The Toxic Spikes were likely insurance against Lyra, but maybe she didn't have to worry about them ... she decided to let the idea sit and mature for a while. “Pidgeotto! Finish it with one Tackle!”

Pidgeotto climbed sharply, rising up to the ceiling before rolling into a dive, just like she had when battling Lyra. Talons swung forward ready for impact -

“Use your Agility, then Twineedle!” Bugsy called. The duel happened so fast that Eve couldn't follow it. There was a nasty crunch as Pidgeotto's talons thumped home, then suddenly Beedrill was lying unconscious on the dirt while Pidgeotto soared overhead, with a thin scratch on her flank. Bugsy seemed almost resigned to the defeat as he recalled Beedrill.

“Your Pidgeotto's fast,” he said, smiling. “Lucky for me I have a pokémon who's just as fast. I choose you Yanma!”

Yanma was about the same size as Pidgeotto, with a certain prehistoric sleekness to its long, red body. Its four filmy wings beat in a complex forward-and-back pattern as it hovered in place, legs held up tight against its thorax. It looks fragile … and the type match-up is still lousy. Why use it at all? Eve brought her Pokédex up just in case.

“Yanma, the Clear Wing Pokémon. Yanma has a 360-degree field of vision. It is a great flier that is adept at making sudden stops and turns.”

Ah-ha! That's why. Ok, I know how I'm gonna play this.

“Start this off with Silver Wind!” Bugsy ordered, taking the first move. Yanma loomed over Pidgeotto and beat its wings till they blurred. A cylinder of gusting winds and whirling silver-grey scales blasted down. Pidgeotto dodged to the right and Eve shouted for a Tackle. The Silver Wind fountained back off the dirt in a billowing cloud, filling the air with a silvery haze as Yanma chased Pidgeotto with its relentless attack. Swerving round the Silver Wind, Pidgeotto inverted and grabbed at Yanma with her talons, forcing it to break off the attack and dodge.

“Quick Attack!” Eve yelled.

“Quick Attack!” Bugsy countered.

Both pokémon attacked, and both missed because they were trying to attack and dodge at the same time. Silver Wind residue churned and billowed as the combatants dodged and swooped. Pidgeotto seemed to be steadily slowing while Yanma got faster and faster. Eve had to squint to make out Yanma whirl round and slam Pidgeotto with its abdomen. Hold on, I can use that!

“Pidgeotto, Sand Attack!”

Arcing round to put some distance between Yanma and herself, Pidgeotto hovered close to the ground, beating her powerful wings hard and throwing up dust from the dry battlefield. The ochre dust mingled with Yanma's Silver Wind, effectively blinding both Yanma and Bugsy.

“Now!” she ordered with a smile and a snap of her fingers. “Quick Attack!”

“Detect!”

“What!” Eve yelled. She could feel her cheeks flushing red with fury.

“Now use Light Screen!” Bugsy ordered, taking advantage of the lull. Hundreds of translucent yellow diamonds appeared around Yanma, slotting themselves together so that they formed a tessellated box before flashing briefly and disappearing. It was a clever move, one that would shut down any Gusts that Pidgeotto might try and leave her with no choice but to switch to Lyra. Not sodding likely.

“Get up high for a Tackle!” she ordered, and Pidgeotto eagerly swept up towards the ceiling.

“That's a bad decision. As soon as you see Pidgeotto, Quick Attack!”

Pidgeotto reached the apex of her flight. Barely a foot of space lay between her and the ceiling, and she let out a long call as if to say 'I'm ready, give the order!'

Eve snapped her fingers, and smiled. That is, she showed her teeth. “Defog!”

Almost leisurely, Pidgeotto swept her wings down, washing the battlefield in a gentle but persistent breeze. Dust and silver-grey scales melted away at its touch, the hidden Toxic Spikes in the dirt were picked up and dissolved into nothing. Yanma's Light Screen flashed back into existence, the myriad diamond panes whirling away like confetti.

“Give it a Gust, the strongest Gust you have!” Eve ordered, not wanting to give Bugsy even a moment's respite. The Gust caught Yanma in its teeth and sent it spinning end over end towards the ground. Straining to right itself, Yanma's wings beat so hard they sent shockwaves crashing into the dirt. Josh was shouting something, his voice drowned out by the sound of wind and wings.

“Hang in there, Yanma!” Bugsy shouted.

“Tackle, make it count!”

Down came Pidgeotto with her wings swept back, sleek and swift as she had been when Eve first saw her flying above the bistro. Yanma managed to regain control of its flight, but the momentary loss of concentration was all the chance Pidgeotto needed. With a wide barrel roll she intercepted Yanma mid-dodge and bore her opponent to the ground.

“Pidgeooo!” she cried, exhausted in victory. “Pidgeot-TOOO!”

As the referee formally announced the result, Bugsy called back his pokémon. He said something encouraging to it before he pocketed the Ball. Pidgeotto fluttered off to perch on a tree branch to catch her breath.

“As a Gym Leader it's my duty to push challengers hard. That's why I always save my best pokémon for last,” Bugsy declared, “the Bug pokémon warrior - I choose you Scyther!”

The scyther that took to the field was everything a scyther should be - fierce, barbaric, intimidating. He stood proudly in front of his trainer and raised his scythes to the sky, shouting a challenge as he did so. The evening sun shone a harsh gold on the blades. But it was the eyes that were truly frightening – sharp, intense eyes, eyes that looked at you first as an adversary.

Eve thought fast, and decided to keep on battling with Pidgeotto. For all the exertion of the battle so far, she hadn't yet taken much damage and she would need her speed to counter Scyther's inevitable physical strength. Seize the initiative.

“Pidgeotto, Gust, nice and strong!” she ordered. Pidgeotto leapt from her perch and threw out a powerful Gust. Despite being half Scyther's size she managed to force him to lose his footing, the same strong muscles that powered her flight lending strength to the Gust. Apparently sensing that Pidgeotto could keep him pinned this way, Scyther took flight, darting rapidly under the cone of the Gust.

“Quick, but not quick enough,” Eve said, snapping her fingers at Bugsy. “Quick Attack!”

“Oh, Scyther doesn't need to fly faster,” Bugsy answered as Pidgeotto closed in. “Aerial Ace!”

Fierce eyes fixed on Pidgeotto, Scyther swept his blade down in a savage diagonal arc. At the last moment Pidgeotto swerved out of the way, but spinning through nearly 360 degrees Scyther turned lightning-fast, intercepting perfectly on the upswing. Pidgeotto screeched in pain and alarm, collapsing onto the battlefield with an undignified roll.

Eve gasped in shock – there was a long cut across Pidgeotto's chest that was beginning to bleed freely. She didn't wait for the referee's inevitable ruling, instead recalling Pidgeotto immediately. The Fast Ball would effectively halt the bleeding and accelerate Pidgeotto's natural healing. “You did great,” she told her, “and I'm very proud.”

Even so, how was it that Scyther knocked Pidgeotto out with one strike? Either Scyther was much stronger than she had originally suspected or … Twineedle. That Twineedle must have poisoned Pidgeotto. She drew Lyra's Poké Ball from her pocket. Adrenaline made her heart thump almost painfully against her chest. Pitting a ledyba against a healthy scyther was not the sort of position she wanted to be backed into, even with a ledyba as feisty as her Lyra.

“You're my last hope,” she murmured to her through the Poké Ball. “Lyra! You have the honour!”

Lyra materialised punching at the air again, undaunted by the prospect of facing a scyther. [Let's do this, Eve! C'mon guy, I ain't scared of you! Whaaaat?] she taunted.

“That's a pretty nice ledyba you've got there, Miss Joy,” said Bugsy. “No way she's faster than my Scyther. Quick Attack, now!”

Scyther pushed off the ground, holding his right blade out in front of him like a cavalryman's sabre.

“Reflect!” Eve ordered. A small hexagonal pane appeared in front of Lyra, translucent blue like tinted glass. Others appeared around it, rapidly locking themselves together until they formed a hexagonal shield big enough for Lyra to hide behind. She had barely finished constructing the Reflect when Scyther's blade crashed through it, shattering a couple of the hexes as it did so.

If Scyther knows Brick Break it's all over. “Mach Punch, then get out of there!” Eve called. Lyra promptly punched Scyther in the eye and curled away under the reach of his blades to make her escape.

“Chase her down with Pursuit!” Bugsy called. Scyther had lost sight of Lyra, but Pursuit gave him instinctive knowledge of where she was. With a twist of the body and a burst of speed from the wings, Scyther tackled Lyra hard. The attack seemed to startle Lyra badly – she spun and threw a volley of Comet Punches, striking at the head and the arm joints below the blade. Still smart, even when her Rattled ability activates, Eve thought proudly.

“Finish this with Aerial Ace!” Bugsy ordered confidently.

“Protect!” Eve countered. She couldn't afford to let even one Aerial Ace land. The attack screeched off the shimmering green Protect.

“You can't Protect forever! Fury Cutter!” Bugsy refused to give Eve any breathing space. Down the Fury Cutters rained, green afterimages whirling in the wake of flashing blades. Reflect hexagons smashed and flew, cracks and rents opened up everywhere on Lyra's carapace. She showed no mercy herself, punching and jabbing whenever Scyther left an opening to exploit, but Eve could see that it just wasn't going to be enough. The one saving grace was that every time Fury Cutter hit, it also activated Lyra's Rattled ability. Lyra kept getting faster, fast enough to break Scyther's hitting streak and stop Fury Cutter from building power.

[No quarter! No giving up! Take this!] Lyra yelled, and threw another Comet Punch volley. Scyther drew a blade back, ready for an attack. Too late Eve recognised what it was about to do.

“Protect!” she yelled desperately. Nooo, too late! Scyther's blade flashed twice, and Lyra was sent flying into the branches of a cypress. She slipped to the ground through the evergreen leaves.

[No giving up … we can win this Eve!] she insisted, wings buzzing as she made her way slowly into the air. Eve blinked back tears, mixed adrenaline and fury blotting out her thoughts.

[What the?]

There was a curious snapping, zapping sound, soft but strangely distinctive. And Lyra started to glow a pure white. Evolution …

Like most people, Eve had seen evolution before, watching pokémon battles on TV. Most people knew how it worked on at least a basic level – through caring for pokémon, Eve had picked up some knowledge of the complexities. But it was nothing compared to seeing it happen right before your eyes … the transformation was beautiful, wondrous. A pulse of light burst from Lyra's glowing silhouette. Her body began to change shape, becoming sleeker, more streamlined. Her third pair of arms migrated down and developed proper feet, her four remaining arms grew longer. Her wings grew larger and took on a swept delta shape.

The glow faded, and Lyra was no longer a ledyba, but a ledian.

[Yea-heh-heh-eeeah!] she exulted, [I have evolved! Hey, pointy!] she called down at Scyther standing on the field below. [Guess what?]

Lyra flicked her wings inward, and an invisible blade carved its way through the battlefield. Scyther cried out in surprise as he was knocked off his feet. Lyra just laughed and attacked again, chasing Scyther with her new move.

“Air Cutter, a Flying-type attack. Classified as a Special attack, Air Cutter has a propensity for dealing unusually high damage.”

Air Cutter … Eve laughed along with her feisty, loyal ledian. We might just win this after all.

“Get it together, Scyther!” Bugsy shouted. “Use Fury Cutter!”

“Reflect! You can do it Lyra!”

The two pokémon met in the middle of the battlefield, spurred on by the orders and encouragement of their trainers. Scyther chopped and cut with savage skill, smashing hexes out of Lyra's Reflect almost as fast as she could renew it. Whenever he tried an Aerial Ace, Lyra blocked it with Protect and struck back with new, strong fists. Possibly no other ledian had ever fought him half as hard as Lyra did, Eve thought as she watched Lyra blast an Air Cutter across Scyther at point-blank range.

Shaving more hexes off Lyra's Reflect as it did so, Scyther laid down a flurry of Fury Cutters into Lyra's left side. His right blade swung up to a ready position; both Lyra and Eve spotted what was coming at the same time. Fury Cutter was a feint! Nice try, Scyther.

“Protect!” she shouted, and Scyther's blade scraped violently clear of the Protect-bubble, throwing his arm out and opening up his guard. Lyra wasted no time, spinning round and throwing Mach Punches with both of her right fists. There was a sharp crack, like a pistol shot, and Scyther let out a deafening shriek. His blade was badly cracked, a large chip missing where the force of the blow had smashed the edge away.

“Stop!” Bugsy shouted. “That's enough. I concede defeat.”

“What?” Eve said. Then she spotted Scyther trying to cradle his injured arm. “Oh ...”

“Scyther, return. We'll get that blade fixed up soon,” Bugsy ordered. He crossed over the field, smiling regretfully, while Eve's heart thudded with the adrenaline still running through her system.

“I don't need to tell you, of all challengers, that it would be irresponsible of me to have Scyther fight on with an injury like that. Congratulations, Miss Joy. You have a new ledian. And you have earned this,” Bugsy said, holding out a bright new Hive Badge.

Take it, you fool. Eve took the Badge and squeezed it in her hand.

“Lyra! Lyra! We did it, we won the Badge!” she wrapped her arms around her laughing pokémon, dancing a little victory-dance. She looked up at the sound of applause, and there was Josh, clapping and looking at her with – what? Was that admiration?

Eve raised her hand invitingly. Moments like this called for a high-five. And because life is never quite that neat, they almost missed.

*​

They were the last two people to walk down Old Village high street that evening. A golden afternoon had given way to a warm evening as the sun set in splendour. Thousands of azalea blossoms, magenta, orange and white, nodded in the late breeze that twitched and tugged at bright little lamppost banners.

“The way you dealt with Yanma was incredible,” Josh enthused as they ambled their way down the street. “I was starting to think nothing would work then you won in three moves! And you got rid of Light Screen and Toxic Spikes in doing so! Clever tactics, Eve.”

“You're sweet to say so, but I told you, I don't plan these moves,” Eve replied, smiling a little sheepishly. In the aftermath of her Gym Battle, with the Hive Badge pinned temporarily to her jacket, she was as happy as she'd ever been. Right now even the imminent prospect of the Pokémon Centre - with an aunt and two teenage cousins in the full flowering of their bitchiness – even that couldn't annoy her. Still, there was a nagging voice in her head that she couldn't quite ignore, a voice that had been quietly chirping away all afternoon -

“We should celebrate our Badges,” she said. “I say we split a bottle of red.”

“A bottle of red!” Josh cried in mock outrage. “Eve, Azalea Town is no Longwater but it's still cider country.”

“You can't celebrate with cider! Ok, ok, how about brandy? A nice slow evening in that pub we saw yesterday.”

“I'll have to grab my maps then. I still don't really know where I'm going next … Violet City, maybe.”

There it was. The moment Eve had been trying to put off all day. Had Josh forgotten what that meant? Did he care?

Tell him you don't want to part ways!

I don't even know that he likes me all that much!

The guy just spent the best part of three days in your company. Take a sodding guess!

“Eve? Something wrong?” Josh asked. Eve realised she'd stopped dead to have an argument with herself. Josh was looking at her with a kind of puzzled concern.

“Oh, erm, no!” she said reflexively. He didn't look convinced, head cocked to one side as if he was trying to see her from a different angle. Are you twelve or twenty-three? Ask him!

“Come with me!” Eve blurted.

“... what?”

No going back now. “Come with me,” she repeated. “On my journey. Our journey. I've really enjoyed spending time with you and I don't want to leave.”

“Yes.”

“I mean it's ok if you don't want to but - what?”

“I don't want to leave either. I've really enjoyed your company, it's been … it's been. Er.”

There was an awkward silence. Neither of them could quite look the other in the eye. A flock of pidgey went fluttering by, heading back to their roost for the evening.

“I feel like we should do something,” Josh said tentatively.

“Handshake?” Eve suggested.

“Too formal.”

“High five?”

“Clichéd.”

“Um …”

“Oh, to hell with it,” Josh said, and in one smooth movement pulled her into a hug. Eve squeezed him back, and made a contented little growling noise. She felt Josh breathe a long, relaxed sigh, swinging her from side to side a little before they broke apart.

Eve couldn't help but break the silence. “Come with me, the time is right! There's no better teeeam!” she sang at him.

“Shut up!” he laughed, giving her a playful shove.

“Arm in arm, we'll win the fight, it's always been our dreeeam!” she continued with exaggerated passion, slipping her arm round his.

Later, Eve would remember it as a perfect moment.

Next Chapter: Forging a Friendship

 

[Beth Pavell]

Spoiler: Responses

@Safe-T: Wow, thanks for your comments on the Gym Battle. Honestly, I do find action harder to write than any other aspect of this story. It takes a lot of planning and thinking from me to get the narrative of the battle down
@Flaze: Mid-battle evolution isn't something I intend to do often. It seems to me though, that logically it ought to happen fairly often. If pokémon evolve through battle experience the question I have is why does evolution wait until the end of the battle to be triggered?
@Rediamond: That's one hell of a review! I think you're right in that journeyfics have a box of tropes that probably will crop up one way or another, whether the parent canon is anime or game. What I've tried to do is to present at least some of them in a new way, in particular the idea of the travel companion. I did think about the problem of trust regarding this, but given the tone of the story I felt that the question of whether to travel together should be a question of emotions rather than personal safety.

In hindsight, perhaps I push my luck when it comes down to the RUTs, as you call them. I am a believer in not having to justify everything you change in an adaptation, but I do take your point in that an off-hand moment of explanation here and there wouldn't go amiss - something I've borne in mind in the writing the chapter below.
@Jabberwocky: You flatter me sir! You're not the first person to say that about Eve, and I hope not the last. Honestly, I'm not quite sure where her character came from, but it is good fun to write a nuanced female character. She was originally going to be a supporting character ... no way was that ever going to last.
@kintsugi: As I've said over VM, so many nice things ^^ I hope the geography of the Azalea Town area will become clearer in this chapter. I also wrote an Atlas note on it in oh, Chapter Eight, I think. In answer to your comments about food, yes, I have non-pokémon animals in this world. Frankly, it makes things a lot easier, especially for a detail-oriented author like me. There are any number of problems, not just regarding human society but pokémon diets, when you accept non-pokémon animals into the story.

Regarding characterisation, I'm pleased with how it's turned out in this arc and I'm glad you like it. Honestly, the Lyra nicknaming thing is an oversight on my part, but I didn't want to retcon it so I just kept the damn scene. Oh, and while I think of it, what is it with people and the bath scene? I'm seriously wondering what people were expecting!

Final comment from now, but according to one of the regional Pokédexes, Aron shed their armour when they evolve. The idea is that on Dewford Island, metal workers collect the discarded armour from the caves and use it to make steel, hence Aron steel

Spoiler: Version History

1.1 : Rewrote last scene of the chapter
1.2 : Rewrote Josh's "employment" inner monologue to bring it into line with the Chapter One rewrite
1.3 Eve now says "for heaven's sake", not "for God's sake"

Chapter Eleven – Forging a Friendship (Version 1.3)

Joshua​

From here the forest seemed to stretch on forever, nothing but mist-shrouded trees marching endlessly into the far distance. The southern side of the forest was dominated by oak and hornbeam, tough old branches frosted with a flush of young spring foliage. Further north, the conifers took over, pine and fir and the great redwoods of the Heartwood. The trees in those groves were the tallest in Johto; they towered up to three hundred feet tall, almost otherworldly clad in their misty cloaks.

Stood with Eve on the foredeck of the paddle-ferry, their new travel backpacks resting on the deck beside them, Josh mentally went over the route ahead one last time. They had decided to head for the Violet City Gym, in a circuitous sort of way, first taking the paddle-ferry from Longwater up the River Esk to Withy End. At Withy End, the Esk was joined by the Withywindle flowing down out of the otherworldly Heartwood. Through the Heartwood, round the Lake of Life Reserve and on through the Ilex Forest to Len Town, following trainer's trails along the way – Josh had chosen that path himself, and Eve had cheerfully accepted it.

The ferry paddled on at her gentle pace, as patient and unhurried as the river itself. She was a quaintly handsome vessel, not so much a ferry as a floating bed and breakfast. Eighteen cabins, a dining room-slash-bar and a tiny shower block were crammed aboard, along with the open foredeck at the bow. It seemed that in defiance of the modern age, steam driven paddle-ferries like this were still one of the easiest and cheapest ways for people to travel in this part of the world.

In many ways, sailing on the Esk was like travelling back in time a hundred years. The river meandered right through the middle of Eskershire; almost every town and village along its banks had a quay or landing stage of some sort to accommodate river traffic. The shire was what Josh liked to think of as 'patchwork quilt country', that part of rural Johto characterised by the distinctive patchwork of fields divided by hawthorn hedges. They had boarded the ferry with a few other trainers at Longwater two days ago, killing time with battling, training, and in Josh's case, studying battle theory. Once or twice Josh teamed up with Eve to fight a double battle – in the evening, they talked about nothing much, forging their friendship one conversation at a time.

Inevitably, last night they ended up having their first fight.

*​

It was a clear, chilly night, tinted yellow by the soft glow of the ferry's lamps. The deck along the sides of the boat was a narrow strip hardly more than three feet wide, hemmed in by the cabins on one side and the river on the other. The captain – a kindly old soul with a beard you could lose a furret in – had decided on the spur of the moment to treat his passengers to a barbecue on the foredeck. Josh nodded to a few of the other trainers as he made his way to Eve's cabin near the stern. She would enjoy this, no doubt – Josh hadn't met anyone who could demolish a burger half as quickly as Eve could.

“Hey Eve, it's me!” he called loudly, with a firm knock for good measure. A muffled curse came from inside, followed by some hurried clothy noises and what sounded like the whirr of a zipper. Eve wrenched the door open a moment later.

“What?” she said shortly. She had her long-sleeved black polo shirt on, and her cheeks looked rather flushed.

“Er, the captain's got a barbecue going and since you haven't had any dinner yet … I can come back,” he said. Eve gave him a glazed look, like she was thinking about something else entirely.

“No. No, I'd rather hang out anyway,” she said eventually. “Give me a minute to get dressed.”

“I'll be on deck,” Josh said, and headed back to the foredeck. He assembled a burger for her while he waited. Mustard, she likes a lot of mustard.

Eve managed a smile and mumbled thanks when she joined him a few minutes later. She'd exchanged her burgundy coat for a sleeveless jacket, forest green with vertical rows of three Poké Ball clasps on either side of the chest. The green matched her brown trousers but clashed absurdly with her pink hair.

“Looking good Eve,” Josh lied. “The jacket suits you.”

“Thanks. It's a gilet,” she corrected with her trademark wink. Food seems to have improved her mood, Josh thought as they fell to their usual aimless chatting. That, and the captain's apparently endless repertoire of tall tales.

“... This is what he said, no word of a lie, 'Ladies and gentlemen. I fear the boat is sinking. Would there be anyone among you skilled in prayer?'

The passengers nodded sagely to themselves, aye, prayer's just the thing at a time like this. Anyhow, up steps a young clergyman, and he says, 'Yes captain, I have some small skill in prayer.'

And the captain replies – no word of a lie, I was right there – 'Excellent! You just stand there and pray, while I hand round the life vests. We're one short!'”

A scattered ripple of laughter went round the deck. “Oh, by the way,” Josh said to Eve, “if there's a Pokémon Centre at Arborville I'll need to visit the library,” he sighed heavily. “I wish these books weren't so damn heavy. I could carry more of them on the road then.”

“Will you quit studying theory so hard and relax? Why don't you just get a Pokédex if the books are too heavy?” Eve said flippantly.

“Easy for you to say.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It's supposed to mean that it's easy for you to 'just get a Pokédex',” Josh replied sharply. The scowl forming on Eve's face was getting on his nerves. “Do you think that running parcels from the back of a bike pays well? I didn't have the privilege of Pokémon Centre wages.”

“So it was easy for me was it?” Eve demanded, fury edging her voice.

“Easier than trying to stay employed in Mulberry Town? Yes, I should think so!” Josh retorted. People were beginning to notice the raised voices. Josh ignored them. He wasn't going to put up with a slight like this, not from Eve.

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that you couldn't find better work? You, an intelligent guy? Bollocks. You just weren't trying hard enough!”

“That's exactly what I'm saying! Not that you'd have any idea what it's like to actually compete for a job, Evelina Joy! You have a high-status job waiting for you whenever you want it!” Eve opened her mouth to shout back but he cut her off. “And I can do without your condescension – don't you dare call me indolent you middle-class snob!”

Eve looked as though she'd very much like to hit him, her fists clenched, the shadow of a snarl on her face. One of her canines glinted fiercely. Bring it on Joy, I'll damn well bite you back.

Eve growled her fury at him and stormed off back to her cabin, leaving a hush in her wake. The sidelong looks and sotto voce commentaries of the other passengers drove Josh to the empty scrap of deck space at the bow. He leaned against the rail, looking out onto the ink-dark river, ignoring the rising conversation behind him. How dare she! How could she?

The biggest shock of Josh's life had been learning that, in Mulberry Town at least, being employed had little to do with merit. All of his certificates of education, his baccalaureate in Modern Kalosian … ironically they had turned out to be a liability rather than an asset. Nobody wanted a fresh-faced clerk when there were any number of experienced administrators competing for the same work. Shops and bars turned him away just the same, under the strange assumption that he was too intelligent for the job. Maybe if I bashed my head on this rail hard enough I can become stupid enough to be employable.

So he'd got by with sporadic courier work, dodging rush hour traffic on his bike. Until the day he'd had enough, and poured all of his Metal Earth profits into pokémon training.

Obviously Eve didn't understand this any more than Dad did. She was a Joy from thriving, bright, Cherrygrove City; her name had a history of honour and respect. He was an overqualified Cook from post-industrial Mulberry Town; his name meant nothing at all.

“She really pushed your buttons, eh Cook?” the captain said, joining him at the bow.

“You could say that.”

“Beer was made for times like this. On me, son,” the captain said, pressing a lukewarm can into Josh's hands. “You know, I've been sailing up and down this river since I was your age. Seen, oh, must be hundreds of couples in that time -”

“We're not a couple,” Josh interjected.

“Couple o'friends,” he replied, not missing a beat. “Couple of inseparable friends. My wife, God rest her soul, she always knew which of the hundreds of couples would stay together.”

“Thank you for your concern, captain,” Josh said stiffly. “But -”

“You can take old Hoster's advice or you can leave it, son. But you'd be wise to kiss and make up, shake hands, whatever. A fight like that's not worth feeling awful about.”

Captain Hoster left him there at the bow, sipping the warm beer and staring at the river. In their twos and threes the other passengers drifted back to their cabins. The red heat of his anger drained away, leaving behind a horrible resentful sadness. He found himself listening for footsteps on the foredeck behind him.

When they did come, they were surprisingly quiet.

“Josh, I'm sorry,” Eve muttered. She looked the way he felt – resentful and sad.

“... I'm sorry too,” he said. There was a lump in his throat. “What I said wasn't fair. I'm sorry.”

They stared at each other's eyes for a long moment, each unsure what to say to the other. Eventually, Eve drew something out of her pocket.

“I had this made for you in Azalea. A little thank you for giving me a great idea. Meant to give it you earlier, but I kind of forgot ...” she opened her hand. A reduced Poké Ball lay in her palm, its upper hemisphere pink rather than red.

“A Love Ball?” Josh said.

“Don't read into it.”

“So you don't like me?” Josh joked.

“If I didn't like you, I wouldn't want to travel with you,” Eve said in a tight little voice. For the first time since he had met her, Eve sounded almost … vulnerable.

“Friends?” she asked.

“Friends.”

*​

It was past noon by the time they reached their last stop at Withy End. The village was perched at the junction of the River Esk and its tributary, the Withywindle. Most of the village was on the right hand side of the Withywindle, along with the red brick landing stage. Weeping willows dipped their long, tendrilly branches into the water, overhanging the landing stage like huge umbrellas. Eve insisted on taking a photo once they'd disembarked, perhaps trying a bit too hard to be friendly after the last night's argument. The photo showed them side by side, Josh with his arm around Eve's shoulders, dappled by spots of sunlight that found their way through the willowy canopy.

It was about a fifteen mile walk to the next town – Arborville, by the Arbor Falls where the Withywindle flowed down out of the Heartwoods over a cliff. They followed the path on the right hand side of the river, walking by orchards for the first six miles or so. After that, it was thick woodland both left and right.

The afternoon's walk was an undemanding one, despite the new weight of their backpacks. They strolled along at an easy pace, taking long breaks to exercise their pokémon. Pidgeotto now liked Eve enough to fly to her wrist on command. Eve cemented their bond by christening her Gail. “Because her Gusts are so strong,” she declared.

Late in the afternoon Josh happened upon a troupe of five bellossom in a ferny glade. Captivated, he'd watched them dance until a sixth bellossom appeared at his feet and challenged him to battle in its high, sweet voice. It was taller than the others, the rafflesia blooms on its head a deep, lusty red. Curiously, this bellossom wielded Leaf Blade like a sabre fencer, dipping a graceful curtsey before drawing its Leaf Blade. The sight of it had melted Josh's heart into a warm puddle, it was so unbearably cute.

As it turned out, catching Bellossom was much easier said than done. The first Poké Ball Josh threw was rent into two ragged, sparking halves by Bellossom's Leaf Blade. His second throw overshot by a good foot, bounced off a rock hidden somewhere in the undergrowth, and struck one of the five still-dancing bellossom in the back of the head, swiftly enveloping it with a flash of red. The Ball hardly rattled before bursting open again. Josh found himself being driven off with a storm of razor-edged Petal Dance; apparently the other bellossom decided to interpret his mis-throw as a sneak attack.

The woods rose steadily up as they drew closer to the high conifers and stately redwoods of Arborville. A fine day gave way to cloudy evening twilight; beneath the towering trees it was like walking through a gloomy, roofless hall. Cloudy skies brought on an early sunset, the world fading to dark shades of shadow grey. Josh noticed that Eve started walking closer to him, and he was glad that she did.

Nightfall was not far away when Josh stepped off the path to pee. The spaces between the tree boles felt uncomfortably wide. Josh squared up to a handy pine and unzipped, resolving to finish this task as soon as possible – he didn't much like turning his back on the woods. He couldn't help glancing around cautiously, irrational though it was. Both Bulbasaur and Screwball were within easy reach at his belt, after all. A light spring rain had been falling off and on for the past hour.

“Are you finished yet? Let's go, I don't want to stand around in the rain!” Eve called from the path.

“Don't talk to me, I cannot go if you talk to me!” Josh shouted over his shoulder.

Thunder boomed, and the heavens opened up, cold rain sheeting down like it was personal. Both Josh and Eve let out cries of wordless dismay. Hurriedly stowing himself away, Josh experienced a brief second of pure panic as something got caught. He ran back to the path muttering imprecations against the capriciousness of zips.

“We'll get soaked!” Eve yelled, trying to shelter under a tree. “Quick, under a tree!”

“Won't work! Not enough cover from these pines!” Josh countered.

“What do you suggest then, clever clogs?”

“We should be about half a mile from Arborville! Let's make a break for it!”

“Aaagh, alright!” Eve ran off along the path, Josh chasing close behind. They splashed noisily through rapidly-forming puddles on the gravel path. In the gathering dark, left and right were beginning to look the same, but for where the beam of Eve's torch illuminated the silvery curtain of hammering rain. Josh's jacket and jeans were already wet through.

“Why does this keep happening to me?” Josh roared.

Raindrops were clustering thickly on the lenses of Josh's glasses, turning his vision into a confused blur. It occurred to him that at this rate he could very likely end up running full pelt into the Withywindle and not know it till he fell in. “Eve! Eve!” he called. “Eve, slow down, I can't see!”

“Oh for heaven's sake,” Eve said, grabbing his hand. “Come on!”

They awkwardly ran hand in hand down the last furlong, Eve towing Josh along behind her. Blurrily, Josh got the impression of monolithically tall trees, those stately giants that he had seen far off from the deck of the ferry. Lights spilling from the windows of the town refracted through the raindrops on his glasses – if he looked over the top of them he could just make out the heights of the Arbor Falls, the hundred-foot falls rendered unremarkable by the indistinct arboreal giants nearby.

Eve stopped with an abrupt splash. “Where the hell is the Pokémon Centre?” she yelled, looking round in every direction. “This way!”

She grabbed Josh by the hand again and dragged him into a nearby building. Light and warmth doused him, and as he huffed down air to recover from the mad run, he realised that Eve had pulled him into an inn rather than the Pokémon Centre. They looked at each other, each soaked through, Josh half-blind, Eve's hair hanging limply, and simultaneously started giggling breathlessly. Eve gently removed Josh's glasses. Josh couldn't help but wince – he didn't like people touching his glasses without asking.

Eve seemed to pick up on this. “Everything ok?” she asked.

“Fine, fine,” Josh replied. For some reason, he felt that Eve should be an exception. She carefully wiped them clear of water and set them back on his nose. “Thank you,” he said, feeling a little taken aback.

The inn's lobby had a homely, traditional look to it, old wood panelled walls and flagstone floor offset by the obviously modern reception desk. The receptionist behind the desk was a middle-aged woman, wearing a sensible cardigan and a welcoming smile.

“Good evening. Are you looking for somewhere to stay this evening?” she said. “The Pokémon Centre is a good thirty minute walk from here,” she added cunningly.

“Shall we just stay here for the night?” Eve said immediately. Almost too quickly. Maybe she doesn't want to deal with her relatives.

“If you like,” Josh said. There was a flicker of relief in his friend's eyes.

“Would that be singles, or a double?” the receptionist asked.

“Double,” Eve said.

“Eve!” Josh snapped.

“Singles,” Eve corrected, giggling. Despite himself, Josh laughed along with her.

*​

Sat cross-legged at the head of the bed, Josh took a sip of hot chocolate. It had been Eve's idea, and a rather good one at that. After a shower and a change into his pyjamas, Eve had turned up at his door with a mug in each hand. She was laid back on the bed beside him, clad in a blue hoodie dress that served as nightwear, scrolling through the menu of her Pokédex.

“Bellossom, the Flower Pokémon. When these pokémon move, their petals rub together, creating a pleasant ringing sound.”

“Carry on?” Eve asked.

“Mmhm.”

“Johto's largest population of bellossom inhabit the Ilex Forest area, ranging from the Lake of Life through the majority of the Heartwood. Concentrations of Sun Stone within the topsoil of this area support this high rate of evolution, the highest rate of natural bellossom evolution outside of the Hoenn region. Unusually for their species, the bellossom troupes of the Ilex Forest area tend to be aggressive in their usage of Leaf Blade. Individuals have been known to wield their Leaf Blades in a manner similar to the style of nineteenth-century sabre fencers. How such distinctly human behaviour could be learned and passed down across generations of bellossom is not yet fully understood, but it is thought that like many anthropomorphic pokémon, bellossom mimic useful behaviours they observe in humans.”

Eve carried on idly scrolling through her Pokédex while Josh quietly finished his hot chocolate. The downpour lashed against the windows, now a cosy reminder that they were both warm and dry for the night. Ok, let's recap. There's a girl lying next to me wearing mostly a hoodie. I'm in my pyjamas, and this is, for all intents and purposes, my bed. By rights I should be feeling nervous, and yet I'm not.

It had only been a week since their chance meeting in Azalea Town, and yet Josh felt as though he had known Eve for much longer. Maybe it was the length of time they had spent together so far – after all, there hadn't been a lot of moments during that week where they had been apart. Truth be told Josh more than liked Eve as a person, he admired the way she dealt with life. She seemed to have a complete disregard for expectations others had of her; Eve did exactly as she pleased and was happy doing it.

Eve shut her Pokédex with a click. The silvery, liquid rattle of the rain was the loudest sound in the room.

“Hey, Josh,” Eve said. Josh looked down at Eve lying beside him. She looked back up at him with a serious, slightly sad expression.

“About last night … we're ok, aren't we?” she said.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Eve was quiet for a moment. She wouldn't look at him, instead looking down at her own hands. “It's just … look, I know that some things are easier for me. You're right, I have a job waiting for whenever I want it,” Eve sighed and fiddled with her hoodie. “Being a Joy means everyone thinks your choices are their business. All I want is to be my own woman, make my own choices, for me. Maybe someday I will go to nursing college and take my place in a Pokémon Centre. But I won't do it to be a dutiful daughter!”

Eve looked back up at Josh, a complicated look on her face – partly sad, partly fierce, and partly something else entirely. “I took it out on you last night, and I'm sorry,” she said.

“Eve … I really am sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you the way I did.”

“So we're really ok?”

“I don't want to fight,” Josh said emphatically. “Forgive me?”

“Forgiven,” Eve smiled. “Are we ok enough for a hug?”

“Come here, you.”

Eve scrambled into a sitting position and slipped her arms around his middle. She had a forceful way of hugging him, squeezing rather than just holding. Josh folded his arms around her back.

“From now on, let's just say how we feel,” Eve murmured, without breaking away.

“Deal. I don't want to fight again.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Next Chapter: Heart of the Heartwoods

Atlas: A Very British Johto

Spoiler

It occurs to me that my thoughts in these Atlases are outstripping the sensible size these spoilers should me. I'll restrain myself to a few short comments, though one day I may have to start a more coherent blog-based Atlas. Well, it's obvious that my Johto is indeed a very British Johto. The reason for this, if I'm being honest, is quite simple. I don't know very much about Japan but I know a lot about Britain. My style calls for some pretty involved world-building – frankly I couldn't bring myself to write a Japanese Johto with my current knowledge base. There is, too a certain degree of patriotism involved, believe it or not. This green and pleasant land really is like no other – British down to the core, I can write about my homeland as I would like to see it in the Pokémon world

 

[Beth Pavell]

Responses:

Spoiler

I really should start writing these at the time I receive feedback. I'm certain I had all kinds of clever things to say two months ago. Oh well, here's my best effort to be clever and interesting. Oh, and a lot of feedback, which I am in no way resentful for. Seriously guys, thanks for all the comments

@Safe-T: I'm glad you liked Captain Hoster's dialogue. It was a bit of an experiment, you might say – it's a bit more American than usual for The Long Walk, but I kind of felt like it should be. The whole riverboat concept is something of an American one – British rivers aren't big enough for that sort of thing, alas. Personally I'd love to cruise down the Mississippi on a big ol' riverboat.

@Jabberwocky: You make some good points, and as you could see by my editing, I agree with the general thrust of your feedback. I'll address some of your comments below since they overlap with kintsugi's feedback

@kintsugi: First of all, I'll admit that I have been a bit self-indulgent with the world-building in this chapter. The idea of introducing the fight before it happens was intended to say “Hey, things like this were are inevitable, so it's no surprise” - the whole idea of the argument, in fact, was based on the idea that you can't put two people together for long periods of time without them clashing over something stupid.
However, I agree that it wasn't my best interaction. It was really difficult to write, and to get to a point where it felt like I'd done the best I could. I suppose what it boils down to is that I was trying to do too much in too short a chapter. The Long Walk is a slow story and I wanted to clip along at a fair pace after the Azalea arc, but that idea kind of clashed with the events of the chapter. A lesson learned, there, I think.

@Flaze: A few days, yes, but a few days spent almost entirely in one another's company. I refuse to respond in any particular way to the dating comment. And looks like you picked up on the pacing problems as well >_<

@VTP-Dawkins93: Such a lot of nice things to say, thank you! I'm glad you like Josh as a character. I often worry that he's a bit too ordinary for his own good, especially next to the oddball that is Evelina Joy.

@Airt: Oh, you sweet-talker, you. I'm sorry for making you wait so long for this chapter, I hope you enjoy it

@Rediamond: I appreciate you taking the time to post, and indeed, some decent constructive criticism may well just be repeating yourself. I was thinking the same thing a few days ago, believe it or not

Version History:

Spoiler

1.1 : Slimmed down Arborville description

Note: I'm aware that this chapter is quite a bit longer than previous chapters. To find the halfway-point, Ctrl+F (XII) will take you down to the right place

Chapter Twelve – Heart of the Heartwoods (Version 1.1)

Joshua​

Majestic in their immensity, the redwoods of Arborville rose up like pillars of the world. Cloaked in the early morning mist, tall and strong and silent, one could almost believe that the trees somehow had a consciousness of their own.

Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves the dreams of trees unfold …

The fragment of poetry came back to him as he stood out on the balcony, clutching a mug of caustic coffee, enjoying the moment of unalloyed peace. Pale and cold, the forest had a washed-out, desaturated quality to it; wheeling sunbeams lanced down through the treetops high above, lending the mists a soft, ethereal glow.

Really, it was a privilege to be here.

From his perch on the narrow balcony, Josh had a panoramic view of the town. Most of the homes were treehouses, cosy little bungalows built up near the branches of a redwood. About a third of the town – the Low Village – was situated close to the banks of the Withywindle at the bottom of the Arbor Falls. The High Village lay at the top of the cliff, looking down upon the Low Village from dizzying heights.

Josh took a sip of his dark, sweet coffee – a second mug stood steaming on the balustrade. Behind him, floorboards creaked gently as Eve padded out to join him on the balcony. Her hair was still damp from the shower, and she shivered a little even though she was fully dressed. Wordlessly, Josh handed over the second mug. Eve drank her coffee in long draughts, heedless of the heat.

“It's a beautiful morning,” Eve said after a while.

“Yeah,” Josh replied. “Where did you say the Poké Mart is?”

“In the Pokémon Centre,” Eve sighed. “Pokémon Clinic, technically.”

“What's the difference?”

“Size,” Eve said glumly. She took a gulp of coffee and huffed ruefully.

“Want me to go in? I can get your things as well as mine.”

“Would you mind?”

“It's ok. Being a Joy isn't easy, right?” Josh said. Eve gave him a small smile.

“Anyway,” Josh added, “if I'm going to the Poké Mart, you're getting the groceries.”

*​

Arborville's idiosyncratic architecture extended even to the Pokémon Clinic, which was a full-blown treehouse in the High Village. In all other respects, though, the Clinic resembled a scaled-down Pokémon Centre. Most of the floorspace was taken up by the common room, with the semi-circular reception desk directly in front of the door. Off to the right, two blue shelving units partitioned off the Poké Mart from the rest of the Clinic.

“Good morning! Welcome to our Pokémon Clinic,” Joy said. She wore a different uniform to her peers, without the usual white apron and cap. Instead she wore a sleeveless pink dress, with a white armband around her bicep. It occurred to Josh that the teenage Joys at the Azalea Pokémon Centre wore an armband over casual clothes, rather than the full uniform.

“Hi. My magnemite just needs charging,” Josh said.

“We can do that for you! May I see your trainer's licence?”

As Josh handed over his licence it occurred to him that the Joys weren't quite identical. There were differences in each of them, if you looked for them. This Joy had a paler complexion and slightly frizzy hair compared to her relatives in Azalea Town. Eve had a rather willowy figure – although, Josh realised, the uniform didn't give much away in that respect. Every Joy wore the same uniform, the same hairstyle, adopted the same calm, competent public persona. No wonder you'd think them identical at first glance.

“That's all ok Joshua. Is there any-anything else I can help you with?” Joy said, stumbling over her words.

“No, thank you,” Josh said. “I'll just be in the Poké Mart.”

There were differences in their mannerisms too, Josh thought as he picked out medicines. All Joys had blue eyes, but Eve … Eve's were special. It wasn't so much the way she could nail you to the spot when she was in a mood – she'd given that look to her cousins in the Pokémon Centre – but the way she looked at him in Azalea Town after her Gym Battle -

“Joshua?” Joy called, appearing from behind the shelves. “Y-You have a phone call.”

Who the hell would call me here? Joy led him round into the common room. There was a row of video phones across the back wall. One was live, the video screen showing a Joy in full uniform. Josh sat down, wondering what this was all about.

“Good morning, Joshua! So nice to finally meet you,” she said in that warm, melted-butter voice the Joys so often used.

“I don't believe we've been introduced, Nurse Joy,” Josh said diplomatically.

“Oh, I'm sorry! Gabriella Joy. Evelina's mother. A little pidgey tells me that you're my daughter's new travel companion,” she added playfully.

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs Joy. And yes, we are friends.”

“Oh please, call me Gabriella! No need to be so formal,” Gabriella said, smiling warmly. Typically for a Joy, she seemed to have aged well - a few thin lines around her eyes and mouth marked her seniority. “I like to get to know Evelina's friends when I can.”

I'll bet you do. Josh came from a large extended family. The Cook clan often feuded amongst themselves, apparently just to give themselves something to do at family gatherings. Josh was beginning to suspect that Gabriella was playing Feud, and trying to pull him into it. Eve hadn't said much about her mother – Josh doubted they were on great terms. What do you want, Gabriella Joy?

Out loud he said, “Well, I'm a trainer from Mulberry Town, and I have one Badge so far. Eve and I met by chance at the Azalea Gym. She's good company.”

“Evelina's become quite a young woman,” Gabriella said. “Enough to make your girlfriend jealous, huh?”

Josh decided that he was fed-up with this game. “Does Eve know you're talking to me?” he demanded.

The smile froze on Gabriella's face. “That's an odd question to ask, don't you think?” she said jovially.

“She doesn't, does she?” Josh insisted. “Why did you call me, Mrs Joy?”

This time her smile disappeared entirely. “I told you once already. I wanted to get the measure of this Mulberry Town lad who has been hanging around my daughter,” Gabriella said. Her Cherrygrove accent was beginning to slip out. “And to let him know that the Joys look after their own.”

“Just what are you suggesting?” Josh said coldly. He didn't much like the implications in those remarks.

“That you'd better behave yourself,” Gabriella replied. The butter in her tone had gone, replaced with a superiority that just made Josh angrier.

“Would you be telling me this if I was called Sebastian from Ecruteak City? No, don't answer that,” Josh said, putting some iron into his voice. “You're a mother, and you don't know me, so I'll overlook that insult.”

“You'll overlook it? I suggest you keep a civil tongue in your head, or else -”

“I don't answer to you.”

They stared angrily at each other through the video screen. Gabriella was giving him the same sapphire-edged glare as Eve did when she was angry. Look, she's even gone a bit red in the cheeks like Eve, too, the observant part of his brain remarked.

“Eve will be as safe with me as she would be with her own dad. On my word of honour. Even Mulberry Town lads have honour,” he added sourly. Gabriella said nothing, looking at him like she intended to burn him alive with the force of her glare. Josh kept his face as still as he could. Out of sight of the video phone's camera he compulsively drummed his fingers against his knee.

“People think that because nurses are everywhere that we're invisible. And that we don't have eyes and ears,” Gabriella said slowly. “If you betray my trust I'll know.”

“Duly noted,” Josh snapped, abruptly stabbing at the call end button and hanging up before Gabriella could reply. For a moment Josh wondered whether it was wise to try and make her more angry. He didn't care – he was in no mood to be given orders by anyone, least of all Gabriella Joy.

*​

It was hard to stay angry, walking through the Heartwoods with Eve. The forest that had felt so uncomfortably wide and gloomy last night now had a stately beauty to it. The air was bright and clear with a pleasantly earthy smell. The trainer's trail was little more than a forest path marked with wayposts every mile or so, following the course of the Withywindle. Once the trail passed close to the boundary of Lake of Life Reserve – legend had it the lake water had mystical life-giving powers. Josh doubted there was anything more than a grain of truth to the legend, but it was definitely true that the undergrowth was a lot lusher than he'd expected. All sorts of bushes and ferns – even the odd young tree – somehow managed to thrive in between the giants. Pokémon were in abundance too - Bug-types of all kinds, furret scampering up the trees, clouds of jumpluff floating through the canopy.

Eve was apparently in a playful mood. Her aimless chattering made him laugh despite his bad temper. At one point she punched him on the arm in retaliation for a snide remark – without really thinking Josh punched her back, and started a war that ended with sore arms for them both.

Late in the afternoon they came to a place where the trail was crossed by a muddy banked stream. The stream was only about a couple of feet wide, but somebody had built a wooden bridge across it anyway. And it was guarded by a knight.

There was no other word for it. He – presumably it was a he – stood at the near side of the span, statue-still. He wore a hauberk of bright mail beneath a black surcoat blazoned with a heraldic grumpig. The greathelm on his head completely obscured his face, with nothing but a narrow letter-box slit to see through. Josh shot Eve a quizzical look; the knight had made no indication that he'd seen them as they approached. She just shrugged, smirking.

“'scuse me, feller,” Josh said awkwardly, moving to step round him.

“None shall pass!” the knight suddenly boomed.

“What?”

“None shall pass!”

“Why?”

This seemed to flummox the knight. “Because … because I am sworn to defend this bridge against all pokémon trainers!”

“Oh come on!” Josh said. “I could just walk across that stream!”

“Then you'll get muddy won't you,” the knight said unsympathetically. The hollow greathelm made his voice echo. Josh gave him a cold stare. The helmet stared back impassively.

“Are you really a knight?” Josh said.

“My arms! Look!” his voice turned petulant and he pointed irritably at his surcoat. “My heraldry! See? I am Sir William the Black, and no man shall pass me!”

“What about women?” Eve piped up.

William appeared to notice Eve for the first time. “My lady!” he cried, dropping to one knee with a jingle of mail. To Josh's annoyance, he rather theatrically took her hand. “What manner of ill-fortune has led you to travel these lands, guarded only by a base cur?”

“A what?” Eve said.

“Oi!” Josh protested.

William ignored him. “A lady so fair should have a knight for her praetorian,” he said softly. The effect was rather spoiled by the tinny echo from his greathelm. Without waiting for an answer he leapt to his feet and squared up to Josh.

“You!” he barked. “Guard yourself, peasant, and face me in honourable battle!”

*​

Josh faced Sir William across the clearing, and wondered why he was playing along with this. Their chosen battlefield was on the near side of the bridge, at William's insistence, the stream trickling away to their left. The forest floor was carpeted with a deep, springy layer of leaf litter – the light alternately brightened and faded as clouds passed over the sun.

William unsnapped a Great Ball from his belt. “For the honour of the lady and for the passage of the bridge, I, Sir William the Black, of the noble line of Fairfax, challenge you to combat!” he declared. “Come forth, Caerbannog!”

Caerbannog was a large, spiny, rabbit-like pokémon, livid purple with a savage horn protruding from his forehead. Nidorino. Poison-type. An aggressive species. Hmm …

“I, Joshua, of the lowly line of Cook, who built this Johto from smoke and iron, accept your challenge. Bulbasaur, battle's on!”

Bulbasaur pawed the ground and gave a nervous bark. Josh could see why – Caerbannog had fixed him with a ferocious look, snapping his fangs with a kind of methodical menace.

“Don't let him intimidate you, Bulbasaur!” Josh called encouragingly. “There's power beneath your scales!”

[If you say so! I trust you, Josh.]

Ok, so, tactics. We can use the sun – wait a minute. I understood that!

“I understood that,” Josh breathed. He laughed joyously as the implications of it sunk in. It had finally happened! Just like Eve had said, Josh heard nothing but the usual 'bulba-bulbasaur' – but his mind understood the meaning as easily as if Bulbasaur had been speaking English.

The sun came out, and Josh laughed again. “Alright! Start off with Growth!”

“Charge, Caerbannog! Horn Attack, full tilt!” William boomed. Bulbasaur flinched at the sight of Caerbannog's powerful legs propelling him forward into a thudding charge. His bulb glowed brighter and brighter as he drew power from the sun.

“Trip it up,” Josh ordered hastily. Bulbasaur’s vines whipped out and he sharply smacked Caerbannog on the ankles, causing him to stumble for a few paces before losing his footing completely. Josh breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't had time to think that order through. What would Eve do now?

“Tackle.”

Trailing yellow sun-motes, Bulbasaur counter-charged hard. Caerbannog gave a wheezy bellow as Bulbasaur knocked the air from his lungs, almost drowning out Sir William's complaints about unchivalrous tactics.

“Fury Attack!” he yelled tinnily. Caerbannog turned and drove Bulbasaur back with a flurry of attacks, primarily stabbing with his horn, throwing the occasional kick to keep Bulbasaur confused and off-balance. Come on, think of a counter! What have you read about nidorino?

[Back off, you!] Bulbasaur barked, and fired a Leech Seed at Caerbannog's face. The nidorino had to hop awkwardly to one side to dodge it, then rear up on his hind legs to avoid a follow-up shot. Bulbasaur seized his chance to create some space between Caerbannog and himself.

“Well done, Bulbasaur,” Josh called. Get it together, man! Their pokémon circled each other warily. William seemed to like battling up close with his nidorino – Josh wondered whether it was capable of attacking at all from a distance. “Keep your distance Bulbasaur, and be patient,” he ordered. They'll have to make a mistake sooner or later.

Caerbannog was growling something at Bulbasaur as they circled one another. [Hey, shut up,] Bulbasaur replied contemptuously. [You know nothing about him.]

Caerbannog bellowed in fury and charged again. Sooner rather than later. “Trip it!” Josh immediately ordered. Bulbasaur scythed at his opponent's legs, but Caerbannog simply leapt straight over the vines with one bound.

“Oh damnit!”

[Oh damnit!]

There was no way Bulbasaur could dodge in time. Hit head-on, Bulbasaur was thrown across the field like a football, where he collided heavily with a tree.

“Bulbasaur!” Josh shouted. “Are you alright?”

[I'm -] Bulbasaur started. Something plopped onto the leaf litter beside him, followed by another, and another, and another. There were five in total, like rather large pine cones covered with bark and bits of forest detritus.

“Pineco!” one of them announced. On cue, all five started to glow. Self-Destruct. Five Self-Destructs, right next to Bulbasaur. Josh's blood ran cold. He was dimly aware of Eve and William running for cover, but all he could think about was bringing Bulbasaur's Poké Ball up as fast as he possibly could -

- the next thing he knew, the scenery was whirling around him and there was a sudden sense of weightlessness. Dust and shredded leaf litter blasted by, and he landed heavily. He couldn't remember hearing the explosion, but he must have done because his ears were ringing. Josh instinctively clutched the Poké Ball hard to his heart.

Eve was pulling him to his feet. “Is he alright? Josh, is he alright?” she said gently.

There was a recall beam. I saw the recall beam! “He's alright. He's alright,” Josh managed. His breathing was ragged and shallow. I saw the recall beam. I was fast enough. He's alright. He's alright. The pineco smoked innocently next to their tree while the nearby stream babbled in its muddy bed.

“You forfeit the battle,” Sir William declared. Josh looked at him blankly.

“What?” he said.

“By recalling your pokémon, you forfeit the battle,” William repeated. “Victory is mine, peasant. I win the bridge and the lady both.”

Eve spun around and gave William a firm two-handed shove, pitching him into the stream. The knight impacted with an ignominious splat.

“I can't be won, Sir,” Eve called down at him. “I don't care what you've won, I've chosen Josh, so deal with it! Oh, and learn to show some compassion, you jerk!” she added as an afterthought.

Josh smiled weakly, fumbling at his belt as he tried to clip Bulbasaur's Poké Ball back onto it. His hands didn't seem to work properly, and he dropped the Ball into the leaf litter. Eve picked it up, reducing it with a quick tap on the button. Before he could thank her she put her arms around him.

“Hey,” she said gently. “It's alright. I'll check Bulbasaur out, he'll be fine.” There was something reassuring about that voice, and in the forceful way she held him ... Josh felt his breathing slow down and match Eve's own.

“Feel better?” she said. Her voice was like melted butter.

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel better. Thank you, Eve.”

“You're welcome, Josh.”

*​

They camped by the Withywindle that night. They weren't far from the northeastern border of the Heartwoods now, with the majority of the redwood forest behind them. Their campsite was just at the edge of a little meadow surrounded by more familiar hazels, alders and willows by the river. Further east, there was a Pokémon Centre where the Heartwoods met the Deepwoods.

Next morning dawned pale and cold again. Josh was the first awake, and he'd set to building a fire to drive off the chill. His pokémon didn't really mind the cold – Bulbasaur was cheerfully downing mouthfuls of damp earth for his breakfast, his wounds sealing up nicely after Eve had treated them. Screwball hovered near to Josh's shoulder, wearing the vacant expression of a magnemite with nothing in particular to do.

This morning wasn't quite so peaceful as it had been in Arborville. Somewhere in the branches of the alder that overhung the campsite, a pair of mating pikachu were being annoyingly vocal -

“Piiika pikapikapikapikapikaaa!”

Josh did his best to ignore them. Screwball had no such sense of discretion and stared up into the branches – although Josh suspected he was more interested in the electricity stored in their cheek sacs.

Some sleepy mumblings drifted from Eve's tent. Yesterday she'd decided to catch a pineco, to add some balance to her team of speedsters. The problem was that the pineco seemed to know what she wanted. The first colony she approached immediately surrounded her with a thick field of Spikes. It turned out that Spikes were no match for aron steel soles, though Josh wished that he'd discovered that under other circumstances. Picking Eve up and carrying her out of the Spikes might have seemed like the most sensible solution but it was also the most awkward ... not least because it was only after he'd set her down that they'd both remembered Gail's Defog -

“PIKA-AAA!”

“Right, that tears it!” Josh snapped. “Screwball?”

“Maaag.”

“Get rid of them.”

Screwball swiftly headed into the branches. There was a brief blast of electricity, the ckroom of a Sonic Boom, and a pair of shell-shocked pikachu dropped into the dirt. The female gave Josh a reproachful look before they scampered away.

Still in her hoodie dress and yawning like a slowpoke, Eve emerged from her tent and plunked down opposite. “What's the fire for,” she said tonelessly.

“Breakfast.”

“Why didn't you just use my camp stove?”

“What? Oh. I forgot you had that. I guess my first instinct is to build a campfire,” Josh said. Eve was giving him a sceptical look, “Blame my parents and their 'hunter-gatherer camping' trips.”

“Well it's warmer than my stove,” Eve admitted, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes. While Josh kept an eye on the fire, Eve rummaged after the bread for breakfast. “Ugh, great. The baguette's stale.”

“I know what we can do with it,” Josh said after a pause for thought. “Bulbasaur, would you find us some salad?”

[Sure thing,] Bulbasaur replied, and headed off into the meadow.

“You know what you're looking for, right?”

[Yep!] Bulbasaur called back, while Josh grabbed a cookpot and headed off downstream.

“Hey!” Eve said indignantly. “Aren't you going to tell me what you're planning?”

“Nope. It's a surprise!”

About half a mile downstream he found what he was looking for – a good spot to look for river clams, in the fine silty mud by the riverbank.

Unfortunately, that spot was on the wrong side of the Withywindle. This side was a flat, pebbly beach, and there wasn't a worthwhile crossing in sight. Damn. There was no way there'd be any shellfish in the shallows. Oh well, nothing for it. Making certain that a nosy Eve hadn't decided to follow him, Josh quickly stripped down. The waist-deep river water was chilly but it would be easier to dry himself than to dry his clothes.

It only took a minute of rummaging to find a clam, dull brown and about palm-sized. Josh liked foraging for shellfish in this tactile way, even if it was cold. He searched as much with his hands and toes as with his eyes. It was with toe-touch that he discovered a bed of freshwater mussels hiding beneath the overhang of a large boulder – Josh picked a double-handful of the biggest. He was bent double, digging out a particularly big clam when something growled softly.

There was an ursaring standing on the river bank.

Josh froze, the prize clam in his hand forgotten. The ursaring loomed like a wall of fur and muscle scowling down at him. His gaze was drawn inexorably to the battery of gleaming six-inch claws adorning its paws. And I left Bulbasaur and Screwball behind. Naked and unarmed, he could hardly feel more vulnerable.

Ursaring had been fishing, he noticed. It was holding a pawful of freshly caught trout and … not doing anything much. It was just standing there, scowling at him.

Hoping fervently that he was going to get away with this, Josh carefully tossed his prize clam at Ursaring's feet. Ursaring picked it up with a shovel-sized paw and examined it closely. Please, just take it and go! Ursaring grunted and daintily popped the clam between its teeth. With its free paw, it selected the smallest of its fish and held it out invitingly. Tentatively, and with one worried eye on those long claws, Josh took the gift. That done, Ursaring turned and ponderously stumped off, waving a paw as if to say 'So long!'

With Ursaring gone, Josh finally had a chance to swallow his heart again. Ok. He forced himself to stay calm. Just because an ursaring has given me a fish is no reason to start running around panicking. He made his way back across the river and sat down on the beach for a while, no longer caring who happened by. It would be nice to go for more than a day without being scared out of my skin. Then he got dressed and headed back to camp.

*​

Back at the campsite, Eve was browsing her Pokédex while her pokémon finished their breakfast. Bulbasaur was back with bunches of wild salad held in his vines.

“How on earth did you catch that?” Eve demanded on spotting the fish.

“I didn't. An ursaring gave it to me,” Josh said in the bright, brittle voice of a man who can't quite believe the morning he's had.

“You're not joking, are you?” Eve said. “That does it, I'm looking that up.”

“Ursaring, the Hibernator Pokémon,” her Pokédex chattered as Josh spitted the fish on a hazel rod. “Though these pokémon have a fierce reputation, they are not usually aggressive. When two ursaring meet, they will often exchange gifts of food as a method of avoiding territorial conflict.”

“That explains that,” Josh said with forced casualness. He suspended the fish over the fire to cook. “So Bulbasaur, what have you found?”

“Ooh, what we having?” Eve said, immediately interested.

“Wild salad, river clam and mussel sandwich with a bit of fish on the side. Ok, let's see … chickweed, dandelion leaves – hm, and flowers – wood sorrel, oh!” Josh gasped. “Wild garlic! Bulbasaur, you've excelled yourself.”

[I looked really hard for it,] Bulbasaur said proudly.

Josh cleaned the shellfish while Eve cut the bread. The shellfish went into the pot with a cup of water, the wild garlic and a good splash of olive oil. I wish I had a bit of chilli pepper for this. He set the pot over Eve's campstove to cook. Josh wasn't sure he approved of that stove. It was an expensive wood-burning model, with an integrated fan and electricity generator; Josh had been brought up to distrust devices like that.

By the time their food was finished Eve was hovering impatiently, the phrase 'Is it ready yet?' obviously teetering on her lips. Josh smiled with the satisfaction of a job done well as he added the gently steaming shellfish to Eve's sandwich. Eve bit into it eagerly, tearing away a chunk with gusto.

“Mmn,” she exclaimed appreciatively. “What's that lemony kinda flavour?”

“That'll be the wood sorrel,” Josh said, taking the fish off the fire. “Have some of the trout.”

He peeled back the skin and pulled off a lump of the pale pink fish. The flesh was firm and light and gloriously oily from being cooked in its own skin.

Neither Josh nor Eve said much for a while, focussing on their hot breakfast for a cold morning. Inevitably the trout didn't last long. By rights, the sight of Eve methodically licking her fingers ought to be rather off-putting, Josh thought. Her lips were shiny with oil – oh, and a bit of her cheek too. Yet there was something endearing about that; it was cute, in a messy sort of way. Maybe it's because it's my food she's devouring. There was still something bothering him about their friendship though.

“Um, Eve? You know how we're being honest about how we feel?” Josh started. Eve looked at him apprehensively. “Well yesterday you told that idiot William that you'd picked me and I just wondered … why,” he said rather more quickly than he'd intended.

“Oh!” Eve said with a relieved giggle. “I thought you were interesting. But more than anything else you really listen to what I've got to say. Most people don't, not really, they're just waiting for their turn to speak. Or they don't see Eve at all but just Joy and are only interested in putting a novelty notch in their bedpost,” she growled.

Josh hurriedly took a bite of his sandwich. There was a warm, fuzzy-edged sensation somewhere in the region of his diaphragm that had nothing to do with the hot breakfast. Eve liked him and he was just being himself – that was a good feeling.

“Why did you say 'yes'?” Eve asked.

“I admire your passion. Your self-assurance,” Josh said, looking at the fire. “You know exactly what you want to do, and why, and damn what anyone else thinks,” he idly poked at the ashes. “And I usually feel intimidated and nervy around pretty, confident girls, but not with you.”

“Oh ...” Eve said nothing else for a moment. It didn't sound like a disappointed 'Oh'.

“I guess I'll just have to try harder to be scary then! Grr!” she said, growling playfully. She was shivering again this morning. Josh grabbed the pot from by the fire, still holding the savoury broth from the shellfish.

“Here,” he said, handing it over. “Have a mug of this, warm you right up.”

“Don't you want any?”

“You have it, buddy. Call it my thanks for yesterday, if you like,” he said sincerely. The events of yesterday had underlined something he'd managed to forget – that, in short, he loved his Bulbasaur dearly. His pokémon was so familiar that it was an emotion Josh didn't really notice any more. Screeching bull onix and wandering ursaring were frightening, but the cold fear that had gripped him when those pineco started glowing … his bruises were beginning to seriously ache, but it didn't matter because Bulbasaur was safe. Now that they could actually converse Josh resolved to tell his beloved partner these things.

“So are you still determined to catch a pineco?” he asked Eve.

“Yep. And I'm going to catch that pineco,” she answered, pointing up into the branches of the overhanging alder. There was a solitary pineco looking down at them charily. This one had constructed its bag from a multitude of short twigs arranged like wooden spines.

“It's kind of small for its species, isn't it?”

“So are you. What's your point?”

Eve tossed a Poké Ball in the air, expanded it, and caught it in one smooth motion.

*​

Eve tossed a Poké Ball in the air, expanded it, and caught it in one smooth motion. “Give it another Gust, and make it a concentrated one!”

Josh was watching the battle, taking mental notes. Eve had already had Gail harass Pineco with a succession of Quick Attacks before knocking it out of the tree with Gust. Pineco hopped upright and briefly flashed a dull iron colour. Gail launched herself into the air, swooped down and trapped the grounded bagworm in the teeth of a Gust. Debris whirled erratically in a proto-vortex before the lashing wind flung pineco against a tree trunk.

“Got you! Go Poké Ball!” Eve threw the Ball with a quick flick of her wrist. Her Poké Ball struck Pineco's centre of mass and bounced off without so much as opening.

“What the? Oh, you clever ...” Eve sounded more impressed than upset.

“What the hell happened there?” Josh asked.

“It's using anti-Poké Ball armour. Those twigs stop the Poké Ball from getting close enough for the Capture Net to deploy. Oh, I have to catch you now!”

Meanwhile Pineco was sensibly winching itself back into the branches while Eve was distracted.

“Hey! Where do you think you're going?” she yelled, throwing another Poké Ball. Josh could tell that she was trying to hit a broken spot in Pineco's armour, but even Eve's aim wasn't that good. The Ball bounced off, Pineco made good its escape, and Eve screamed wordlessly in frustration.

However, the wheels in Josh's head were beginning to turn. If he could find a length of hazel the right shape …

*
​

Josh sat cross-legged with a hazel branch across his knees. He was removing the surplus twigs with the saw blade on his multi-tool. With admirable bloody mindedness Eve was still trying to catch that pineco. Unfortunately, Eve's aiming problems were exacerbated by the fact that Pineco was now deliberately trying to stop her from targeting the damaged spots of its armour.

Josh gave his work a critical look. It would still need to be straightened out over the fire – I wish I had some sandpaper and a bit of copper sheeting to finish it properly – but it would be fit for purpose.

*​

Eve gnawed irritably at a chocolate bar. Pineco had retreated into its tree, watching Eve as intently as she watched it. “It's repaired its armour already, look,” she commented.

Josh trimmed off the last few splinters with his knife. “That'll do,” he grudgingly admitted.

“What are you making now?” Eve said testily.

“You're going to regret that, Eve, because it's something for you,” Josh replied calmly. “I call it – the Capture Spear!”

The finished tool was over sixty inches long, making it almost as long as Josh was tall. For most of its length it was simply a stick of good hazel, but at one end he had left a few inches of the branches on the stick, so that a Poké Ball could nestle quite nicely there. He had secured one in place with a few strips of electrical tape, so that the button faced directly forwards like a spearhead.

“Josh, you hoopy frood,” Eve exclaimed, understanding immediately. With a Poké Ball taped into place, the Capture Spear would allow her to strike faster and with much better accuracy than she could manage from throwing a Poké Ball. She spun it around in her hands a few times to get a feel for the balance.

“Yeeah, this'll work! Ok, let's do this while pineco's still tired!” Eve said with renewed enthusiasm, selecting a Poké Ball from her gilet. “Meowth, you have the honour!”

Meowth scratched an ear idly, giving Eve a look of feline disdain. He lazily meowed something to his trainer.

“Yes, you do, you rotten moggy. Now behave and cut down that pineco. There may be a fish head in it for you.”

“Mee-owth!” the scruffy black cat replied, suitably bribed. He darted off towards the base of the big alder, splitting off into Double Teams as he went. The clowder of fake meowth swarmed up the nearby trees, converging on the solitary pineco. Unconcerned, Pineco launched a flight of Pin Missiles, the pins arrowing and snaking down at the clowder. In one attack it destroyed most of the clones – but missed the real Meowth, who sliced through its silken anchor with one swipe.

“Chase it! Fury Swipes!” Eve ordered. Meowth dropped straight from the tree, claws unsheathed and ready. It should have been an unavoidable high-impact attack, but Pineco simply started a Rapid Spin; Meowth was thrown violently clear before he could so much as land a blow. He howled harshly, as angry as he was hurt.

Eve paced back and forth predatorialy, holding the Capture Spear in both hands. Even as a high-speed Meowth whizzed by she lunged, jabbing once-twice-thrice. Eve apparently saw something Josh couldn't, since she suddenly cursed and retreated.

“Meowth, in front of me!” she barked in a tone that brooked no argument. Josh almost took a step forward before his brain reminded him that she was talking to the cat. Meowth looked like he was itching to attack, but he obeyed his trainer and placed himself between Eve and Pineco.

“Flash,” Eve commanded. Meowth's charm suddenly blazed like burning magnesium. Josh covered his eyes too late – by the time he blinked the glare out of his vision Pineco was starting to glow yellow.

“Oh, no you don't!” Eve roared, lunging forward.

“Eve!” Josh shouted. What the hell is she doing?

Eve deftly spun the Capture Spear into an overarm grip. Pineco's glow brightened, its armour about to become a hail of flying shrapnel. Eve struck fast and true, thrusting the Spear down with both hands. With the distinctive whine-whoosh of the Capture Net opening, Pineco was sucked into the Ball. The button light flashed half-heartedly a few times.

… ping!

“Ha-ha!” Eve whooped. “I finally gotcha, you cunning little bastard!”

I can't believe she got away with that. Eve started an impromptu victory-dance, waving the Capture Spear in the air while Meowth meowed insistently at her feet.

“Oh, calm down, you'll get your fish head – hey, what's up?” she said, seeing the look on Josh's face.

You got closer to a Self-Destructing pineco. “You are … a brave, crazy girl,” was all he could think to say.

Next Chapter: Deep in the Deepwoods

Atlas - Wild Foods:

Spoiler

I really want to talk about the proper use of the terms “arms” and “heraldry”, but this is supposed to be The Long Walk Atlas and not Pavell's Complaints. So I'll talk about wild foods instead. It's surprising how little you have to make up in fiction. I'm pretty sure I invented the freshwater clams and mussels, but it's not competely out there – freshwater shellfish do exist, after all.

Anyway, you'd be amazed at how many plants that are apparently weeds are nonetheless both edible and palatable. I live in British suburbia (More or less), and I can find about five things I can eat raw just walking to the convenience store. Daisies taste fresher than any pre-bagged salad I've ever eaten. Dandelion leaves are a bit bland but quite acceptable. Dandelion flowers are a bit grassy, perhaps – though don't eat any of the sap. It contains latex and is vile.

My point is that with a decent field guide to wild foods and a good eye, you can find all kinds of things to eat. Even before resorting to grinding up acorns.

 

[Beth Pavell]

Spoiler: Responses

@Vivillon: I didn't know you were among my readership! Thanks for the comments, it's nice to know you're reading. Y'know, I was beginning to wonder whether anyone had noticed the Monty Python reference. It was one of those ideas that came to me in the shower – originally I was just going to have a sparring match between Eve and Josh. This idea was too amusing not to do, and in any case the odd bit of shameless silliness is no bad thing xD

@Airt: Sorry for making you wait so long for this one! Yes, the montage style scenes at the end didn't quite work as I'd hoped – maybe it's time to admit that the format doesn't really work in prose. I'm glad you liked the cooking scene. I was a bit worried that it was going on for too long and that people would think it a pointless tangent

@AetherX: A long review from you, that's a nice surprise! Fun fact, I hate camping, but I do like wild places. And wild food. And skills that mainly require observation and knowledge over masses of manufactured tools.

The biolite was what I had in mind for Eve's stove – I did a lot of research, looking at reviews of camping and equipment and suchlike in the hope that guys who actually do go camping don't cry foul ^^' I thought I'd made up river clams, but what the hell, biology is more my strong suit and they seemed plausible enough to me. And you lucky sod, wish I lived near the sea.

In hindsight I think I got a bit carried away with Arborville. It's not quite as it is seen in Celebi: Voice of the Forest so I suppose I felt the need to be clear on how it was different, promptly forgetting that it didn't matter much.

@Life: Well hey, thanks for that review! I have to admit that I didn't invent Arborville (See my comments above to AetherX) I didn't mean for Sir William to be anything other than a joke either, but now you mention it, he is sort of thematically appropriate to the chapter! Oh, and the mating Pikachu ... xD Yeah, funny thing is I was watching Planet Earth - the documentary, go Sir David - as research for the Heartwoods. There was a shot of a couple of mating grey squirrels, squeaking away and well, before I knew it I had the joke in my head. Oh, and any comments are useful, so thanks a lot

@Flaze: Josh's distrust of Eve's stove is a bit of a Luddite response, frankly. He'd probably argue that if you don't know how to start a fire by hand, you're screwed if your expensive gadget breaks. I can't help but think that I got away with this chapter - I hadn't realised how much silliness was in there till I read your review

Spoiler: Version History

1.1 : Ninetales now attempts to rip Josh's arm off

Note: Halfway point bookmark: XIII

Chapter Thirteen – Deep in the Deepwoods (Version 1.1)

Evelina​

It was their third morning in the Ilex Forest. Eve sleepily checked her hair in the mirror before she headed downstairs to the Pokémon Centre's common room. She'd managed to do it while still more than half-asleep – after so many years of styling her hair in the same way every morning, the habit was ingrained into her bones.

Eve had never been to Deepwood Pokémon Centre before, but she was familiar with it. It was quite big for a trailside Pokémon Centre, being a large two-storey log house sited at the crossroads of the Ilex Forest. Most visiting trainers came up the southern trail from Azalea Town to head on north to Route 34.

It was quiet in the common room this morning. The Centre nurse was doing paperwork at the front desk – their eyes met, and she raised a sardonic eyebrow. Sonya. If Eve was the black mareep of the Cherrygrove Joys, then her second cousin Sonya was the golden. Eve knew what that raised eyebrow meant. It meant: 'I'm twenty-three, and I'm already a nurse. This is my Pokémon Centre. I'm a real Joy - what are you?'. She shot her cousin a sharp look back, with a slight flourish of the Capture Spear. It meant: 'I am a pokémon trainer. My choices are my own. Back off!'

Josh was watching the coverage of yesterday's Pokémon World Tournament matches in the lounge. Eve hesitated – Oh, what the hell – and gave him a good morning hug.

“Ow!” Josh flinched. “Not so tight!”

“Sorry,” Eve said sheepishly. “Shouldn't have hugged you with your bruises.”

“I didn't say that ...”

She hugged him again, gentler this time. “Hey, Lorelei's back at the PWT!”

The camera lingered on Lorelei for a moment. She was beautiful in the same way that a snowflake is beautiful, arms folded tightly – no easy feat – across her chest. Her glasses seemed to obscure her eyes, like sheets of ice.

“Yeah, I wasn't going to watch this but she caught my eye,” Josh said admiringly.

Typical guy.

“The way she battles is just - incredible!”

Atypical guy!

“- she was spaced as a psyduck, frankly, until she set foot in the trainer's box ...” he trailed off. Eve found she wasn't sure how to react; she hadn't seen Josh star struck before. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Sonya surreptitiously keeping an eye on her.

“It was like she flicked a switch, you know?” Josh continued. “One minute she's away with the fairies, the next – calculating. Ruthless. Indomitable as a glacier.”

“Well, she is a pokémon master,” Eve said. Sonya was getting on her nerves. What is that little witch looking at? It seemed to her that Sonya was watching Josh a lot more than she was watching her.

“Josh ...” Eve said slowly. “Why is my cousin over there spying on you?”

“Must be my virile aura of sexuality,” he deadpanned.

The giggle bubbled up before Eve could stop it. She could think of several positive adjectives to attach to Josh, but 'virile' was not one of them. “Come on, you. We'd better make tracks before Sonya jumps you,” she giggled, as they stepped out into the Ilex Deepwoods.

*​

Beneath the leafy roof of the Deepwoods, the dawn twilight lasted all day. The Deepwood trees stood so closely together that their crowns merged into a green roof. They were ancient-looking things, with gnarled grey limbs and leaves of a rich, dark green. Here and there spots of daylight found their way down through the forest roof, startlingly bright against the gloom. The Pokémon Centre itself stood in the middle of a small clearing, a rough oval washed with sunlight. Just outside, a tall flagpole rose up above the dense trees, flying a red P on a white background.

Eve wasn't sure what she had expected from the Deepwoods. They were said to be one of the few true wildwoods left in Johto – the very soul and centre of the Ilex Forest. People had lived here once, long ago, but the wildwood had returned, smothering the abandoned villages under a green blanket.

You couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by the forest. There was something about it that was vaguely unfriendly, as if the trees disapproved of people. Josh said they were called Quercus obscurus, or black oak, and that they grew nowhere else in the world. Eve was privately glad that their time in the Deepwoods would be a short one. The eastern trail from the Pokémon Centre struck out across the narrow waist of the forest, the quickest route through to Len Town.

“Oh, hang on Josh,” Eve said, holding out the Capture Spear. “This is yours.”

Josh didn't take it right away. “But I made it for you,” he said.

“I know, Josh. And it worked beautifully.”

“Well ... ok then.”

“You're not upset, are you?” Eve asked anxiously.

“No. No, it's ok. It's just a clever stick.”

“Are you s-” said Eve, then stopped herself. Trust him on this one, Eve.

About half a league down the trail they came across the Ilex Forest Shrine.

It looked very much like any other wayside hokora, discreetly tucked away beneath the spreading crown of a huge black oak. The shrine resembled a small wooden house raised up to a convenient height on stilts, with a porch of sorts to accommodate offerings. Eve felt a bit disappointed; the Ilex Forest Shrine should be mystically illuminated by a sunbeam, not standing gloomily in this grey shade.

They regarded the Shrine in silence for a while. Eventually, Josh said, “You going to leave an offering?”

Eve kicked her heels in the dirt a couple of times. She was well-known to the spirits back home in Cherrygrove - she had been making small offerings at the shrine for almost as long as she could remember. It wasn't worship, as such. Eve regarded it as an acknowledgement that people and spirits had to live in the same area, so they might as well get along.

“I don't think so,” she said. Making an offering to the spirits at home was one thing, but the Deepwood spirits didn't know her any more than she knew them. “How about you?”

“No,” Josh said firmly. “I don't need their help to get through this forest.”

Boys and their pride. Eve shrugged and followed her friend down the trail. A faint breeze stirred the air. She turned, looking back at the Forest Shrine. Dead leaves skittered across the path but … nothing.

*​

It was almost noon, and Eve decided that she didn't like this forest. It was too dark. It was too quiet. The forest pokémon were secretive, watching them from conspiratorial huddles, melting away whenever she stared back. It wasn't so bad with Josh there. He was practising with his Capture Spear, trying to 'learn how to wield it as deftly as she did'.

It was sweet, really. She watched him try to spin the Spear from an underarm into an overarm grip, lose control of it and drop it clumsily into the dirt.

“Not much of an athlete, are you?” Eve laughed, giving him a friendly punch on the arm.

“You shut up, you,” he grumbled.

“Oh, sweetling, I'm only teasing,” she said, retrieving the Spear from the dirt. “I am going to teach you to throw better, though. See if we can avoid a repeat of that bellossom incident, huh?”

Josh wasn't paying attention. He was frowning in concentration, head cocked to one side.

“Josh?”

“Sh-sh … can you hear that?”

Eve listened sceptically. Aside from an oddish slipping away into the undergrowth … nothing.

“... no?”

“Someone's crying, I'm sure of it. They might need help.”

With that, he turned and strode briskly off the path. Bewildered, Eve hurried after him, trying to keep up as he weaved purposefully between the trees. How the hell does he move so quickly in these sodding woods? She was debating whether to argue with him over whether he had heard anything at all when she caught the sound of feminine crying from up ahead.

“Hey!” Josh called out. “Hey, are you ok?”

There was a gasp of surprise and relief, then the sound of someone tearing through the undergrowth, wildly yelling “I'm here, I'm here!” as she ran. The girl half-collided with, half threw her arms around Josh, nearly bowling him off his feet. She sobbed breathlessly over his shoulder, burbling something about being lost forever.

“Hey now, hey now,” Josh said gently, tactfully extricating himself from her vicegrip. “It's ok, we've found you now.”

The girl sniffed prettily and wiped her eyes with a sleeve. She looked about sixteen to Eve, a little shorter than herself. She was dressed head-to-foot in mossy green – green raincoat, green umbrella, green wellies. Her hair was the most gorgeous shade of pale gold, tied back into a loose ponytail.

“Sorry,” she said. She stroked her ponytail awkwardly, “I've not long broken up with my boyfriend and I thought I'd take a walk to, ye know, clear my heid and I wasn't watching where I was goin' and oh god I'm babbling. I'm Maisie. Just Maisie.”

Eve took a moment to absorb that stream of nonsense. The silly girl evidently wasn't an Ilex native – there was a lot of heathery Blackthorn brogue in her accent. “Josh, hadn't we better get back to the path?”

“I suppose so. It's in this direction – no, I tell a lie ...”

Maisie gave Eve a watery smile. “I bet I can guess what your name is!” she said with a kind of wobbly gaiety. “I don't think I've ever seen a nurse on a journey before!”

“I'm not a nurse,” Eve replied bluntly, and felt a brief burst of schadenfreude when Maisie's smile disappeared. Josh was pacing back and forth, frowning the way he tended to do when he was concentrating. A nasty little suspicion started to grow in the back of Eve's mind. “Josh … which way do we go?”

Josh wouldn't look at her. Instead he scowled at the trees accusingly.

“Joshua Cook!” Eve warned.

“I'm … not sure which direction the path is in.”

“What!” Eve barked.

“What?” Maisie cried.

“Calm down, damnit! We're not bleached skeletons yet. There's still the Ranger Union,” Josh said, tapping the number into his battered slab of a PokéGear. “No signal, what the hell?”

“Shall I get the bone polish then?” Eve said tartly.

“This can't be happening again!” Maisie wailed.

“This is ridiculous, I bought this Pokégear because it gets a signal anywhere!”

“Everywhere but this forest!” Maisie persisted.

“I -”

“That's not helping!” Eve yelled at the silly girl. These sodding woods were unnerving enough without Maisie's wailing.

“Now -”

“Why are you yelling at me?”

“Because this is your fault!”

“Everyone shut up!” Josh roared.

There was a shocked silence.

“Right,” Josh said. “Eve, send Lyra up above the trees and find out where the Pokémon Centre is. If I'm right she should be able to see the flag.”

“I'll go myself,” Eve said, taking off her backpack. Secretly she was relieved that Josh still knew what he was doing, and relieved to be doing something useful, “Give me a leg-up.”

With a little effort Josh helped her hoist herself up into the branches. That was one good thing about these trees – the gnarled and twisted limbs made for easy climbing. Eve made her way to the highest point she could find, pushing her way up through the leafy, twiggy roof into the noon daylight.

The day was overcast and getting cloudier, but after the Deepwood gloom Eve still needed to blink to get used to the light. It looked as though they were near the middle of a miles-wide depression in the ground; in every direction almost all she could see was a blanket of trees. Even the lines of whatever paths existed were smothered by the Deepwood. Leagues off to the right Eve could see the Ilex Hills, the highlands that lay near to the Lake of Life. And very far off, she could just about make out a red P fluttering above the horizon.

“It's that way, just on the horizon,” Eve said, leaping down the last few feet.

“That way,” Josh repeated pensively, scrutinising the map. “Good, we have a bearing. Ok, so we'll head that way.”

“But – the Pokémon Centre's the other way,” Eve said, confused.

“Yes. But there's bogland somewhere that way that spells trouble if we end up in it. No. We'll keep heading east.”

*​

(XIII)

It was late afternoon, and the forest was seriously getting on Eve's nerves. The damn black oaks stretched on for mile after endless mile, glowering down in mute disapproval. Strange paths appeared in the undergrowth only to abruptly disappear again; the sun was hidden behind the clouds, deepening the gloom still further. Eve didn't have the slightest idea where she was, and that chilly knowledge was steadily fraying her temper.

Josh was having real trouble navigating, and that wasn't helping either. Somehow he kept getting turned towards the north, away from the east and into the heart of the Deepwoods. Eve could see his growing frustration every time he glanced at his compass. “I don't understand it,” he kept muttering to himself.

Eve finished the last of her chocolate bar and growled under her breath. Josh had decided to stop for a rest while he figured out the way. They'd finally come across a proper path over the last half-mile, following it southeast till it split into a fork. The left-hand fork headed down a wide avenue of trees – the right was rather narrower, thick beset with thorns and briars. A gentle gust disturbed the dark leaves. Their rustling almost sounded like sibilant whispering.

“I think … I think I know this place,” Maisie started. “Aye! Aye, I do! That broad, bonny road there, that leads up to the hills! There's a path that takes ye out just north of Len Town.”

The trees loomed over the thorny path, their branches lacing together overhead. They were whispering malevolently at her. Wait … no they weren't. Just her imagination.

“Hm,” Josh said neutrally. Eve drifted closer to her friend for the comfort of it.

“We could be in town before sunset,” Maisie said pointedly.

“Josh, maybe, maybe she's right, we'd end up heading east anyway,” Eve said.

Josh stared down the left-hand path as if he hadn't heard either of them. After a while he slowly recited:

“Up the airy mountain,
And down the rushy glen,
We dare not go a-hunting,
For fear o' little men.”

“No,” he said firmly. “No, there's no such path on the map, and going north for a while solves nothing.”

“Why don't you believe me?” Maisie complained.

“Because you got lost here in the first place.”

There was only enough room for them to go single file, and still the thorns snagged and pulled. Eve made sure that she walked behind Josh; she wouldn't admit it, but his confidence was encouraging. It was silly – she felt silly – but she also felt nervy and annoyed.

There was an oddly familiar crackling, spitting sound behind her. Eve glanced about, puzzled, and spotted a leaping orange light in the brambles.

Fire.

The flames spread quickly, greedily burning through the tangled vines. Leaf litter caught light and crumbled to ash in moments. The air was already starting to become hazy from smoke. Eve looked about wildly – to her horror independent fires were breaking out all across the forest ahead.

“Fire!” she shouted. Her warning was redundant – Josh had stopped dead, startled. Maisie was shrieking incoherently. Trees were blazing, old dry bark going up in rippling sheets of flame. Eve clamped down on the rising panic. Think. Use your eyes! The wildfire described a rough crescent consuming the forest to the right and the path ahead. Back. Back and to the left.

“Back! Back this way!” Eve shouted. Maisie was still overwhelmed with panic; Eve grabbed her firmly by the arm and towed her away from the blaze. She could feel her own fear crushed down into a little ball in the pit of her stomach. Panic later. Act now. Take charge. Be sensible.

She glanced back. There was Josh, leaning on his Spear, silhouetted against the raging, billowing, yellow-hot fire. The madman hadn't moved! The trees were like black skeletons wreathed in flame and he hadn't moved!

“Josh! Get back!” she commanded with her mother's steel tone.

Josh half-turned to look back at her. “Why?” he said, and stepped into the inferno.

“Josh!”

Dusk descended on the forest. The wildfire snuffed itself out. Unharmed, Josh looked critically at the unscorched forest, as if awarding it marks out of ten. He said something cheerfully, but Eve couldn't hear him. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it would burst. Suddenly, the truth of what had just happened sunk in; her fear turned to fury, and she punched his arm as hard as she could.

“Bastard!” she yelled.

“What -”

“Bastard!” Eve punched him again. “Do you know how scared – I thought you'd be – how could you -” she babbled, trying to hold back the tears.

Josh had the decency to look ashamed. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry.” He put his arms around her, but Eve wouldn't hug him back and just held her arms up close to her chest.

“If you ever do that again I won't forgive you,” she muttered into his shoulder. Make an excuse and I'll bite your head off. Josh wisely said nothing.

“How did you know,” she said.

“The fire wasn't hot.”

“What?” Eve said, breaking away. “Of course it was -”

But wait … it wasn't, was it? Now that she thought about it, there had been smoke and light, but no heat – and she'd been too scared to notice.

“Something's screwing with us,” Josh said. “Ghost pokémon, maybe. I'll bet that's why I'm having trouble navigating.”

“What are we going to do Josh?” Eve asked wearily.

“We keep going,” Josh said resolutely. “No forest has defeated me yet, and the Deepwoods won't be the first,” he laid a hand on her shoulder. “Trust me on that.”

Eve looked Josh in his dark eyes. The fact was, even without an accurate idea of where they were, no phone and illusions throwing him off track, Josh still wasn't lost.

“I trust you.”

*​

It was early evening, and Eve decided that she hated this forest. The sun setting above the trees brought an early nightfall to the Deepwood below. Over the past few miles the path had turned from thorny to ferny, forcing them at times to wade through a carpet of waist-high fronds. Eve wondered how often anyone walked this deep into the forest. A while ago they'd come across an old iron signpost, of all things, pointing towards a place called Ercledoune.

Not long after that they happened upon the ruins of a castle. Not much of it was left standing aside from the shell of the keep - the outer bailey had crumbled to the height of a garden wall. Best of all, the bailey was also a very welcome woodland glade. Second best of all, Maisie was finally quiet. Probably sulking.

“Doesn't look like there's much more than an hour of daylight left,” Eve said. “What do you say to camping here for the night? It's as good a place as any.”

“Yes, please!” Maisie groaned. “I'm so tired.”

“I'd hoped to reach Len Town by tonight,” Josh said doubtfully. “Depends how close the Deepwood edge is.”

Eve slung her backpack on the ground. “I'll take a look at the land. I saw a good climbing tree back there.”

“I've just got to, erm … use the ferns,” Maisie said needlessly euphemistically. “Might have a wee look at the ruins too. I'll be a while.”

There was a rotten old grandfather of a black oak within eyeshot of the glade. Eve quickly hauled herself up into its heights and scanned the landscape. The grey sunset made details difficult to pick out, but her heart leapt to see the lights of Len Town in the east. It would mean a trek in the dark, but they could make it there tonight.

Eve made her way to one of the stockier lower branches and sat herself down. Down below, Josh sat leaning against the bailey wall, resting his eyes. The sight of Len Town had put her in the mood for mischief. Time to give him a scare.

But she couldn't move. Her muscles were frozen, held not painfully, but immovably. With a flash of anger Eve remembered the sensation from an incident involving an irritable abra – Disable.

“Looks like we're going to have to sleep here tonight, hun,” something said in Eve's own voice.

The something that walked into the glade was a young woman in her twenties, kinda skinny, sensibly dressed, with a hairstyle better suited to a somewhat more mature woman. Down to the last detail, she was Eve's exact double. Another illusion! Something's going to pay for this one!

The illusion-Evelina gracefully vaulted the bailey wall. For some reason illusion-Evelina had removed her polo shirt, and was wearing just the sleeveless green gilet instead. Slightly unzipped, too, Eve noticed to her deep annoyance.

“What? Oh. Oh, well,” Josh sighed. “Can't be helped. I'll get a fire started in a moment.”

Illusion-Evelina sat back on her legs in front of Josh, with a rather contrite look on her face. “I'm sorry I hit you earlier. I was just so scared that I was going to lose you.”

“I didn't intend to do that, Eve, honestly I didn't.”

“Well, thinking back … it was kinda hot,” Evelina giggled.

Josh gave her a blank look. “No, it wasn't. That's the whole point.”

“Not the fire!” Evelina laughed, giving him a playful shove. “You! Standing there all fearless and figuring it out.”

There was a pause as Josh considered this. “Really?” he said.

“I'm really glad you're here, you know. Journeying by myself was an adventure, but also … kinda lonely,” Evelina went on softly. “Don't you ever get lonely on the road?”

“I liked the freedom,” Josh said carefully. “But I like travelling with you, more than I thought I would.”

There was another moment of silence. Frozen in her tree, Eve watched with the intensity of a pidgeotto.

“It's a lovely evening,” Evelina said, biting her lower lip gently. “All the better for being out here alone, huh?”

“Er. I suppose so ...” said Josh, beginning to look a little nervous.

Evelina leaned forward, her hand drifting to the zipper of her gilet. “I know what I want this evening,” she said seductively. She tugged the zip down another couple of inches. Josh obviously couldn't help but look, brief and almost reluctant though his glance was. Eve burned with embarrassment and fury. Those are my boobs you're showing off!

“Eve … you can't be suggesting what I think you are.”

“Is it so strange? I've seen the way you look at me,” Evelina purred. “Don't you want to see what's under my jacket? Unless you'd rather see me from the back.”

“... what about Maisie?”

“There are two tents. And she's going to hear me anyway,” she giggled. “I can't believe I just said that.”

“You know, Eve, this is all a bit sudden -”

“Shh. Don't think.” Evelina shuffled closer. She leaned in -

- and caught Josh's fist square in the mouth. Josh wasn't a big man, and it wasn't a hard blow, but it was enough to knock Evelina onto her back.

“What are you?” Josh demanded. The force holding Eve was instantly released. Driven by fury, she raced down the tree and was over the bailey wall just as the illusion-Evelina was scrambling to her feet.

“There's the real Eve!” Josh said.

“So you've figured it out, have you?” Evelina snarled. She made a wide sweeping gesture, like she was throwing off a coat. The girl blurred, her features transformed – and became Maisie, angrily tossing her pale gold ponytail.

Now to find out what you really are.

“Ninetales, the Fox Pokémon, and the evolved form of Vulpix. Ninetales are both intelligent and vengeful, using illusions to trap victims into receiving curses.”

“I nearly had ye as well,” Maisie said, her illusion visibly slipping. Pointed vulpine ears were pushing their way up through her hair.

“Why,” Josh bluntly demanded.

“Why? Why?” Maisie barked. “You dare walk through these sacred woods and leave nae offering? How dare ye come to Ercledoune withouten leave of me?”

“I'll come and go of Ercledoune and ask no leave of thee,” Josh flatly replied. It wasn't an argument; he said it as if he was stating a fact.

“Oh, we'll see!” Maisie appeared to produce a Poké Ball from a pocket. “Ninetales, go!”

Ninetales – the true Ninetales – manifested in a flash of fire. Her coat shimmered gorgeously even in the fading light, but there was malice in her deep red eyes.

“So it's like that, is it?” Josh said evenly. “Magnemite, battle's on!”

“Gail! Help him out!” Eve cried, yanking Gail's Fast Ball from its clasp on her gilet. Gail elegantly backed air with a flick of her wings and settled on Eve's upraised wrist. Josh folded his arms in preparation for battle.

“Indomitable as a glacier,” he muttered.

“Ninetales, Flame Burst!” Maisie ordered.

“Intercept. Thundershock!” Josh snapped. The two attacks collided, the Flame Burst exploding in a shower of embers.

“Gail, Quick Attack!” Eve said. Gail eagerly launched herself at Ninetales' legs. Ninetales was just that bit quicker, leaping straight up and over Gail who went skimming away across the clearing. Ninetales landed fluidly and launched her own Quick Attack, dashing past Eve and pouncing on Josh, driving him into the bracken with a cracking of fronds. Maisie growled a chain of guttural imprecations as in the depths of her wrath Ninetales vigorously attempted to tear Josh’s arm off.

But Magnemite didn't take too kindly to pokémon laying teeth on its master. Maisie screamed as Magnemite's Thundershock burned through Ninetales. By now Gail was lined up ready for another attack, picking up speed, bringing her talons to bear -

“Hit the neck!” Eve shouted. I'll make you regret that Quick Attack! Gail put all the force of her descent into her Tackle and sunk her talons in deep. Ninetales howled in pain and vindictive fury. Maisie's illusion was seriously beginning to unravel, her teeth turning into fangs, ponytail multiplying and growing longer. Gail cunningly took flight again, circling round Ninetales so she couldn't keep an eye on her and Magnemite at the same time.

Magnemite seemed to realise they had the advantage. It spun to face Ninetales and emitted a terrible screeching, scraping noise; much like Supersonic, but harsher, even more discordant.

“Aaargh!” Maisie screamed. “Burn it!”

Ninetales rounded on Magnemite, flames flickering between her jaws. Her attack engulfed Magnemite in a ball of crackling fire. “Magne-miiite ...” it wailed, drifting semi-conscious to the ground.

“Come on Gail, let's end this now!” Eve shouted. She was resisting the urge to throttle Maisie where she stood, illusion or no, “No more games! Gail, give it your strongest Gust!”

Gail swept down her powerful wings as hard as she could. The Gust rippled Ninetales' lustrous fur, her tails streaming out like banners. Ninetales snarled her defiance – a Flame Burst roared from her jaws only for the fireball to be torn apart by the winds. Suddenly the Gust started to spin around Ninetales, dust and dirt whirling in the vortex. Cobalt lightning flashed in the howling winds. Eve quickly scanned the vortex with her Pokédex.

“Twister, a Dragon-type attack. Classified as a Special attack, Twister may inflict the Flinch status on opponents.”

“Perfect work, Gail!” Time to end this. “Poké Ball -”

“No!” Maisie screamed. Battered and bleeding from her neck, Ninetales fled to the edge of the bailey, “No, no, no, I will nae be captured!”

Maisie was beginning to fade. She pointed a vengeful, translucent finger at Eve. “This is not the end. Mark my words!” she warned. “I will be back and I will see you cursed!”

“If I see you again then it will be the Poké Ball for you! Be told!” Eve raised the Poké Ball threateningly, and with a last snarl, Ninetales fled into the depths of the Deepwoods.

Eve found Josh sore, with a torn jacket, but otherwise fine. As it turned out, Ninetales' attack had badly winded him, and it seemed that Magnemite had put a stop to her attempt to maim him. He winced from the pain of his many bruises when Eve helped him up. “You're seeing a doctor in town,” Eve told him. “No arguments. I'll take care of Magnemite.”

Eve held up her wrist for Gail to perch. “Perfect work,” she told her, stroking her brilliant scarlet crest.

“Pidgeo,” Gail replied, and tried to groom her hair.

“Josh …” Eve asked hesitantly. “How did … how did you know it was another illusion?”

To her surprise, Josh actually blushed. “The eyes. They were the wrong shade of blue.”

*​

Night had truly fallen, and Eve had never been so glad to see the lights of a town. The Deepwood edge loomed behind them; down across the fields Len Town twinkled like a friendly constellation. It had been one of those days that felt like it had lasted forever, and though Eve suspected that she'd look back on it as a great adventure, now she was only too ready to leave the Ilex Forest behind.

Josh leaned on his Capture Spear. For once, he didn't have a compass in his hand. Eve put her arm around him, this time being gentle about it. “So I was right to trust you,” she said. “No forest has defeated you yet.”

Josh gave her a tired smile. “Yeah, well, it's a matter of honour. For you to be safe with me, that is.”

Next Chapter: Old Maud

Atlas: Religions and Beliefs

Spoiler

This chapter is quite an involved one in terms of the amount of supplementary reading that's gone into it. There are an awful lot of references to British folklore in there, far more than I can sensibly talk about in the length of one Atlas. I've written a blog – that you can find here – explaining and exploring these references, for whoever's curious.

Anyway, addressing the question of religion for the first time turned out to be somewhat similar to the question of how much Japanese culture to include. So few Westerners notice the references to Shinto in the the earlier pokemon games – why should we, since Shinto is very much a Japanese religion? After a lot of thought, I decided to simply treat the pseudo-Shinto you see in this chapter much like real Shinto. I've been deliberately ambiguous about whether the spirits worshipped are pokémon or not, though Ninetales certainly believes in them too. It seems to me that in a story that deals with slices of people's lives, the “truth” behind the religions shouldn't matter. What matters is what the belief means to the characters.

 

[Beth Pavell]

Spoiler: Responses

@Airt: Aaand, now I can relax a bit! I wasn't sure how this chapter was going to turn out, if I'm honest, so I'm absurdly pleased that you liked it. It's more, well, cinematic than usual which is always a pain because things have to be snappy and vivid >_< Oh, yes, the old pagan beliefs are strong on the edges of these isles. Folklore, to me, is just another way of saying “religion”, except that it has no priests, unless grandmothers count. Oh, and in response to your question, I will ask a counter-question: “What do you think?”

@Vivillon: I haven't planned for Ninetales to return. For all her fiery Scots threats I can't see her leaving the Deepwoods to get her revenge. It would have been a smart idea for Maisie to be a Ninetales victim, sure! But the chance to reference the Queen of the Elves would have been too tempting in any case, I think

@Rediamond: I put a lot of thought into how – in the context of a world where foxes can breathe fire – the illusions would work. At first it was just going to be a Stantler overreacting, but then the fairytale theme came to me. Anyway, the point is that I tried to only ask the reader to suspend disbelief regarding Ninetales' motives. All the rest of the fantasy elements are already canon, one way or another, including the Ninetales habit of cursing people. Part of this was in response to your review, by the way, adding in some explanation for otherwise chance events.

@Flaze: Drat. I'd hoped that referring to the illusion as Evelina would be enough. Maybe I dug myself a hole with that bit. It's a bit of a perspective shift since you don't see much of Eve's reaction during that short sequence. I didn't intend for it to be fanservicey ^^' I was trying to go for something rather odd and uncomfortable, but oh well, lesson learned.

It's not my favourite battle I've ever written and I'm considering going back to put a bit more life into it. That being said, the battle only really needs to serve a purpose and I didn't want it to dominate the chapter overall.

Spoiler: Version History

1.1 : The officer interviewing the pokémon hunter is now a Detective Inspector

Interlude - Old Maud (Version 1.1)

Junior Ranger Alicia Fennel carefully tweaked the folds out of her sweater vest. Her sergeant was a stickler for neatness in office uniform and was not above sending her back to the locker room to redress. She checked her shoulder boards one last time – patrol station ID on the right, name and rank insignia on the left.

Fennel sighed, just a little resentfully. She was outside Interview 2, one of Bluefinland Patrol Station's small suite of interview rooms. She quietly entered Observation 2 next door. The room was dimly lit, dominated by the one-way mirror looking into Interview 2.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Fennel said. Sergeant Harlow gave her an appraising look, no doubt searching for something to upbraid her on. Her sergeant had no double standards, every bit as neat and orderly as he expected her to be. He always reminded Fennel of an action figure fresh out of the box.

“Fennel. Take a look,” he said. Fennel obediently looked through into the interview room. It had the air of a very dull office, apart from the Detective Inspector conducting the interview and the stony faced suspect in prison fatigues cuffed to his chair.

“Another poacher?” she asked.

“Not just a poacher. That's pokémon hunter Piers,” Harlow said solemnly. “We've been after him for a while. About a week ago he washed up below Giant's Leap. Finally took on more than he could handle.”

“What's he being charged with?”

Harlow ignored this. “There are some things a Junior Ranger ought to be told before she earns her laurel,” he said. “Do you remember when you asked me if I believe in Lugia?"

“Yes sir. You said you didn't.”

“Right. What I didn't tell you was why,” Harlow continued. “And that is because there is no point in believing in things that exist.”

“But … I thought Lugia was a legend,” Fennel said tentatively.

“And? That doesn't mean it can't also exist. There are five of them that we know of. A mother, and her four children. Oh, don't look so astonished,” he said, catching Fennel's expression. “Lugia is still a pokémon. Pokémon breed and die same as everything else.”

Fennel said nothing. She was sensitive enough to her sergeant's moods to know when to shut up and listen.

“Some of the legends may be true, for all we know. They usually live in the open ocean, down near the abyssal plain. Try studying a pokémon that can cruise at twelve knots two miles below the sea. The mother lugia is about two hundred years old, we think. Who knows what she calls herself, but we call her Old Maud. Each spring she brings her children to the islands, for the sardine boom. Sometimes she stays for the summer, sometimes not,” Harlow paused, a faraway look in his eye. “I saw her once. I was a Junior Ranger not much older than you … she was with her eldest son just off the Lariggan Rocks. She doesn't often let herself be seen, but I think it was her way of letting the Union know they were ok.”

Fennel glanced back at the stony faced pokémon hunter. Sergeant Harlow liked to keep testing her.

“He was trying to capture her, wasn't he?”

“No. Piers isn't that stupid. It was the young ones he was after.”

“... what for?” Fennel asked, with some trepidation. Most poachers at least had a grudging respect for the pokémon they captured, but hunters … they were different.

“Perhaps his client wants to find out just how many of the legends are true,” Harlow said. “I doubt that is Piers' style though. More likely he'd sell one to some dictator. There are plenty of despots in the world that would pay handsomely for the ultimate counter-rebellion weapon.”

Pokémon hunter Piers stared stonily back at the DI. The worst part about all this was how normal he looked. A pokémon hunter ought to have some sort of facial scar, or a steely gaze, at least a threatening tattoo or something. But Piers, well, Piers looked like the kind of guy you'd see in an office cubicle somewhere, not in a Ranger Patrol Station. This was the kind of guy who would sell a lugia to be used as a terror weapon. Against civilians. Fennel tried and failed to suppress a shudder.

“So what do you think, Fennel?” Sergeant Harlow said quietly. “This is as high as the stakes go. Do you still want to earn your laurel?”

“More than ever.”

Next Chapter: Comfort Zones

 

[Beth Pavell]

Responses:

Spoiler

@diamondpearl876: The first two chapters have always been a bit ropey. By rights I should have scrapped them and started again but I’ve edited them so much over time I’m reluctant to do so. There’s still some typos that always slip through >_<

Josh’s dull personality is rather endearing

That’s one of the stranger comments I’ve ever received, assuming you’re not being sarcastic, that is

I don't know about that. People who graduated 20+ years ago still use their high school diploma to apply to college, no? Basic skills aren't generally lost, either. That's what semantic memory is for. But complex concepts, such as (for me, anyway), long division, the scientific method, and other lists/step-by-step procedures can be forgotten. Same with pokemon concepts. You can easily forget attack names, how they're used, specific strategies you once used while battling, etc. Am I even making sense? Oh man...

It’s a fair comment. I suppose Eve would probably say that with eight Badges you must be given entrance into the Silver Conference, whereas a diploma has no fixed value. I’m not saying you’re wrong, you see, just that you have a different opinion to the viewpoint character.

Anyway, about Bugsy, I wanted him to be very obviously an authority figure. It kind of bothers me in fanfic how Gym Leaders tend to have status based on how easy they are to beat in the games. And it ties in with Bugsy’s one anime appearance where he very explicitly develops tactics to counter Bug-types’ weaknesses[/mention]

Note: Beta reader credits go to AetherX, since my usual reader is essentially busy

Chapter Fourteen – Comfort Zones (Version 1.0)

Evelina​

From: Imogen Joy ([email protected])
Sent: 6 April 2012 21:28:09
To: Evelina Joy ([email protected])

Eve,

Well done! You're one step closer to the Silver Conference! I know you think that Lyra evolving was lucky, but really, you need not think so. I'm surprised that Lyra hadn't evolved yet anyway, it appears that the stress of the Gym Battle was just the push she needed. Still, to defeat a scyther right after evolving, that is quite a feat! It just goes to show that you're a great trainer.

Eve, darling, when were you going to tell me about your new friend? You know I'm not going to go reporting to your mother. I'm glad that you have someone to hang out with on your travels. He seems quite taken with you – did you know he told your mum off this morning? She called him at Arborville to talk to him for herself … well, long story short she told him to behave himself. He didn't like that. Told her that you would be safe with him as a matter of honour, and that he wouldn't answer to her.

In any case, Eve, if you trust him then so do I. And just remember, we all support you. Joys look after each other, and that's that. Mail me back, I'm sure you have some stories to tell!

*​

Eve clenched her fists tightly and relaxed them again. Don't go spare. Get his side of the story. Then go spare. It was hard enough to get away from family squabbles without her friend participating in them. Josh ought to consider himself lucky that she wasn't as angry as her mum must be. Eve scanned the common room, spotting Josh reading the bulletin board at the front of the Pokémon Centre.

“Joshua Cook!” she yelled. Josh took one look at the look on her face, and immediately looked for an escape route.

“Don't!” Eve commanded. “Did you talk to my mum on Friday?”

“Well, yes, but she called me. Er. You could say it was a rather frosty conversation -”

“Do you have any idea how angry she is?”

“Ok, so I'll admit I was a bit antagonistic. I'm sorry, but I get defensive when my honour's questioned.”

“Are you kidding? I couldn't be happier that you pissed off Queen Bee!”

“Then why are you shouting at me?” Josh said, exasperated.

“Because. Because you should have told me,” Eve said. She subsided, with some effort, “I need to be able to trust you, Josh. And that means -”

“No, no, you're right. It was thoughtless of me.”

Why are you trying to fight with him?

“It's not your fault,” she sighed. “You weren't to know. It's just … sodding family games,” she sighed again. “What were you reading?”

“Apparently people are willing to pay good money for pokémon.”

Most Pokémon Centres had a classified ads board. This one was covered with requests for pokémon caught at White Lake. Fifty dollars for an Infiltrator zubat, seventy for a chinchou … a hundred for a vaporeon. A hundred and fifty for a buizel?

“Real good money,” Eve mused. “There are buizel at White Lake?”

“A small population. The only permanent buizel population outside Sinnoh, as it happens,” Josh said. “I was curious,” he added.

“You trainers wouldn't happen to be interested in my ad, now would you?” somebody said in a smooth baritone. The voice belonged to a middle-aged fellow, quite handsome in that distinguished way middle-aged men sometimes were. He looked like an advert for one of the better class of clothes chain.

“I'm seeking a trainer who can catch a buizel. For my daughter's birthday.”

“Oh, we're just brows – mmph!” Josh started.

“Oh dear, is that my hand clamped over your mouth?” Eve said innocently. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

Eve dragged him, protesting indistinctly, out of earshot. “Mon-ey,” she intoned.

“I recognise that smug face! That's the Right 'Honourable' Timothy Fitzroy MP!” Josh fumed sotto voce. “Last year he paid for the mortgage on his second house with taxpayer's money then sold it for a profit! He can catch his own damn buizel.”

“So he's rich and arrogant and has a flimsy idea of the value of a dollar?”

“Yes!”

“So it would be quite easy for a working-class boy to chisel him out of a couple hundred dollars?”

Eve smiled to herself, imagining the cogs spinning in Josh's head. An iniquitous little grin spread slowly across his face.

“Two chisels are better than one?” he said.

“Let's do it,” Eve agreed.

Fitzroy was watching with an air of paternal amusement. Josh is right, he does look smug.

“We'll catch that buizel,” she said. “But we'll need three hundred dollars.”

“That's twice the price my assistant set,” Fitzroy replied with an indulgent laugh. “How about two hundred, because I like your enterprise.”

“Two fifty. Plus daily expenses,” she insisted.

“I can't pay expenses,” said Fitzroy. “It's only a few days until her birthday.”

“Are you suggesting that I would drag my heels in order to claim more expenses, sir?” Eve said sweetly. “Because that would be dishonest. You're not accusing a Joy of being dishonest, are you?”

“No, no,” Fitzroy said hastily, with a sideways glance at the other trainers in the Centre, “I was emphasising the short-term nature of -”

“Two fifty, and you supply the Poké Balls,” Josh broke in. “Six. Three Net Balls, three Dive Balls.”

“Six Poké Balls to catch one pokémon,” Fitzroy said doubtfully.

“Doesn't look like many trainers are heading up to White Lake,” Josh said conversationally.

“I remember when my daddy gave me my little Meowth,” Eve said dreamily. “Best birthday ever.”

“Alright! I'll agree to those terms,” Fitzroy relented. “I'll have my assistant bring round the Poké Balls.”

Eve and Josh smirked at each other as Fitzroy left. As soon as he was out of sight they simultaneously whooped and high-fived.

“You are so evil!” Eve laughed.

“Me!” Josh cried in mock outrage. “You caught your Meowth in an alley, you liar!”

“Scoundrel!”

“Grifter!”

Laughing and accusing one another of villainy, they headed to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee while they waited for Fitzroy's assistant. There was an empty table by the window, looking out onto Len Town high street. Rather a lot of people here owned Psychic-type pokémon, for some reason.

“Hold on a moment,” Josh said as soon as he sat down. “White Lake is a free catch zone, isn't it?”

“I think so,” Eve said uncertainly.

“Blast. I'd better go and check. Last thing I need is for Dad to find out I've been arrested for pokémon poaching.”

Eve smiled faintly as Josh ambled off, grumbling to himself. She wondered vaguely whether she should offer to patch up his jacket – it was already looking a bit threadbare, but now there were three long tears in the fabric from where Ninetales had raked him. Ninetales!

"Don't you want to see what's under my jacket?"

"What about Maisie?"

Damn that fox. Eve had been so glad to be finally out of the Deepwoods that she hadn't really thought about the incident until her head hit the pillow that night. She couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if Josh hadn't seen through Ninetales' illusion. What if he'd been harbouring a crush on her since Azalea Town? She could be accidentally leading him on, and that wouldn't be fair. Damnit. She liked being able to hang out in pyjamas! That would be first to go, Eve thought ruefully.

What Eve really wanted to do was to ignore the whole issue in the hope that it would somehow resolve itself. But that was damn silly, and Joys aren't damn silly. Doing nothing changes nothing.

“One buizel per trainer, otherwise free catch zone,” Josh said, startling Eve out of her reverie. “Everything ok?”

You can't put it off forever.

“Um, Josh … can we talk? For a while?”

“Of course, bud. What's up?”

Eve took a deep breath. “About yesterday. When Maisie was, pretending to be me you didn't exactly … say no.”

Josh couldn't meet her eyes, and just stared at the tabletop. Eve you idiot! What did you ask him that for?

“Bear with me. These thoughts are complicated,” he said, after about a century. “I was thinking so many things. Part of me wanted to run. I might have done just that but … a stronger part of me didn't want to hurt your feelings. And then a small part of me was saying 'Go for it!'. I didn't know what to do. It was all very sudden, and all those provocative little comments just … well, they just made me very nervous.”

“Oh,” Eve said. Ohmigosh he's talking and I didn't screw everything up! “That's actually kinda sweet. Complicated, but sweet. Did I really make you that nervous?”

“I'm not used to this sort of thing, Eve.”

Wait a minute. Nervous, not used to sexy talk, wanted to run away. Two plus two makes four. “You haven't done it before, have you?” she said quietly. Josh hesitated, as if reluctant to answer, “I'm not going to make fun of you,” Eve added.

“… no. No, I haven't. It doesn't bother me. What bothers me is that other people think I should be bothered by it.”

“I don't think it should bother you,” Eve said. Josh gave her an appreciative half-smile.

“Um, sweetling? You haven't really answered my question. I saw you looking,” she said pointedly.

“Eve, I'm so sorry about that, I mean I didn't realise it was you and -”

“Josh, Josh, Josh,” Eve cut in. “I'm not angry with you. I just want to know how you feel about me.”

Josh paused to think again before he answered. “Eve, I need you to believe me when I say I honestly haven't been stealing glances at you. Yeah, I find you attractive. But I find you attractive because you're so confident and passionate, you know? So when you were apparently in front of me with your top unzipped I, I couldn't help but …” he trailed off, blushing fiercely. “Now I've had space to think, I know I want to be near you. As your friend.”

Eve laughed with relief. “That's great!” she said, and meant it. “That's really great.”

Josh drummed his fingers on the plastic tabletop. “I didn't see a lot, you know,” he said shyly. “Just a bit of cleavage.”

“I suppose I should consider it a compliment that you couldn't resist taking a peek,” Eve joked, winking roguishly at him.

“You shut up, you,” he chided, but he was half-smiling at her anyway. “We're ok, right?”

“Yeah,” Eve said as encouragingly as she could. “I'm not blaming you. Frankly I'd rather that damn Ninetales hadn't flashed you, but you've never made me feel objectified. I know you're not staring at my butt every time I turn my back on you. And if you want us to be even then you can lose the jumper and show me those pecs.”

“Alright, I know a wind up when I hear it! Get your Pokédex out, we've got captures to plan.”

Eve giggled and slid her Pokédex across the table. She felt oddly tired, like she'd run a mental mile. But it was the content feeling in her chest she noticed the most, and hadn't felt for a long time.

Next Chapter: Gotta Catch 'Em All

 

[Beth Pavell]

Spoiler: Responses

@Airt: Someone’s excited ^^

@FullMoon: I may have mentioned it a couple of times in responses by now, but I’ll freely admit that the first couple of chapters have their issues. I originally wrote them without much in the way of a plan, and since I rebooted the story I decided – unwisely, in hindsight – to try and edit them to bring them up to standard rather than rewrite them entirely. Eve was originally written to be odder than she is now, though her overreaction was deliberate. If I were to scrap that chapter and start again I think I would smooth it out somewhat.

The battle was my first attempt at choreographing a pokémon battle. And boy, does it show! That is one aspect of the chapter that has bugged me – one of these days maybe I’ll go back and give it a proper overhaul.

@diamondpearl876: Blasted technical errors! It just goes to show what a fresh pair of eyes can do, I thought I’d caught them all to date.

As I recall the pacing of the Azalea arc became an issue. I originally had a longer arc planned, and in Chapter Eight especially Josh was going to try and copy Eve’s battle style, only to realise that the only way he could win was by developing his own style. I ended up scrapping the idea and hinting at the training with Magnemite since Magnemite was the new catch – and because I realised that the arc would start to get stodgy, and I wanted to get to the first Gym battle a bit quicker.

Speaking of Gym battles. Bugsy could figure out Eve’s team – he already knew she had a ledyba from judging her qualifier match, and he saw Meowth, so by process of elimination Eve’s new pokémon must be Pidgeotto. I put in a line explaining why Bugsy would use Toxic Spikes, knowing that Eve’s team is two-thirds Flying-types, but I think most people miss it. I forget whether in the games Gravity makes Flying-types vulnerable to Toxic Spikes, but what the hell, it doesn’t make sense for them to still be immune even if they touch ground.

While I freely admit that it’s a big cliché, I maintain that pokémon evolving mid-match wouldn’t be all that uncommon. I made an attempt at foreshadowing Lyra’s evolution beforehand – with the change to her sleeping habits – though that’s something else that had to be condensed for space along with Josh’s training.

About the last conversation, in Chapter Fourteen. I’m not about to give any hints as to where Josh and Eve’s relationship is going – you guys are all going to have to theorise about that for yourselves – but a love confession in that scene … eh, I don’t know, it just would have felt tacky. I mean, what would be the inference there? Josh doesn’t realise he likes her till she apparently wants to have sex? Or it takes an invasion of privacy from a pokémon to get the feelings out there? No. Just doesn’t feel right.

@AetherX: Thanks for the review! I’ll admit, the “away with the fairies” line is one of my favourites. It was originally “spaced as a psyduck”, which I quite liked and ended up staying in there another way – Lorelei here being a pastiche of her anime and manga appearances. Anyway, Chapter Thirteen was a deliberate attempt to mimic Terry Pratchett’s masterly use of shout-outs and references, so you might say in that regard that it’s a very fanboyish chapter ^^

I really liked writing the seduction scene. It was tricky to get Ninetales!Eve’s dialogue right – but what I really enjoyed was writing Josh’s reaction. Sure, he’s waaay out of his depth there, but it’s kind of a nice moment for him to figure out the illusion by paying attention to the details.

I’m glad that you liked the finished Chapter Fourteen. Details to the rescue! Once I’d decided to show a bit of Len Town – and the law around selling pokémon, thanks for your comments on that – how the transitions should happen became obvious.

@Rediamond: The banality of evil is a favourite theme of mine. It’s continually amazing, in a horrifying stare-at-the-wall sort of way, what evils can be committed by an otherwise blameless man who loves his family and is kind to his dog. You’re right in that I’m going for a more mundane approach to legendaries in this story – my job’s made easier insofar as I don’t have to deal with the creator problem.

I think there may be a cultural divide here. Wealthy people living in rural towns and villages is quite a common trope in Britain, especially in the south. I forgot that this might not necessarily be what happens elsewhere in the world.

I love seeing the different views on Josh and Eve’s interactions!

@Flaze: How did I manage to miss a response again? Well, good news in that Chapter Fifteen doesn't take place in the Ilex Forest. Merely near it xD

Spoiler: Version History

1.1 : Altered dialogue during the dream sequence
1.2 : "Wednesday" is now "Osturday"

Chapter Fifteen – Gotta Catch ‘Em All (Version 1.1)

Joshua​

A cloud of fog covered White Lake like pale velvet. It stubbornly lingered even this late into the afternoon, transforming the landscape into a ghostly watercolour. The air was chilly, and damp. Moisture beaded in their hair – Eve was crowned with a scattering of silvery drops – mud squidged underfoot with play-doh consistency. Josh could only just make out the far northern shore of the lake through the mists – closer to on the western side of the lake, the dark fringes of the Ilex Deepwoods loomed suspiciously out of the fog.

Cold water dripped off Josh’s curls and down the back of his neck. He swung the fishing rod he’d hired onto his shoulder. Suddenly a wail of pain and anguish tore through the silence. It was the cry of some lonely and evil creature, a cry that froze the blood and thrust a dagger into the heart. Blank terror seized him. His heart jolted, trying simultaneously to skip a beat and beat twice as fast.

But then the wail changed into a delighted laugh, and the sudden terror drained away as quickly as it had manifested. Josh spun around – behind him, what appeared to be a disembodied head hovered in mid-air, dark blue with long locks of hair floating in an imaginary breeze. Its large eyes were scarlet with yellow sclerae, with what looked like a string of red pearls hanging around its neck.

The pokémon, whatever it was, was laughing as gleefully as if it had just heard the funniest joke in the world. Then, without warning, it melted away into the fog.

“What the hell was that?” Josh demanded of the world in general.

“Some sort of Ghost-type,” Eve said breathlessly. “Quite a scream, huh?” She looked more amused than annoyed, laughing off her own nasty shock. Josh sighed and pushed his glasses back up his nose. He reminded himself that it would be worth the cold and damp – and screaming - to be able to tell Dad that he’d made several hundred dollars in one day.

They pitched their tents near to the water’s edge, on the driest ground they could find. Josh cast his line into the weedy shallows to the left of their camp, with Screwball waiting patiently by his side. Every now and again it would start to wander off, only to come right back as soon as it was called. If it was disobedience, then it was a weird kind of disobedience. Josh was beginning to think that Screwball simply forgot what it was supposed to be doing every now and again.

Eve’s set-up was considerably more sophisticated. She was using her own telescopic rod down by the deeper water to the right of their camp. With the kind of casual preparedness that Josh was coming to expect of Eve, she already had a small selection of lures to choose from. Eve, however, wasn’t using a hook. Instead, the end of her line was hung with a proximity sensor and a reduced Net Ball.

While Eve patiently cast and reeled in her lure, Josh was reminded of why he’d never really liked angling. For one thing, he wasn’t very good at it. This damn lake seemed to be full of nothing but remoraid. Every time he reeled in a bite there’d be another pistol fish flapping around on the end. There was a familiar tug on the line, and Josh promptly yanked back. Whatever he’d hooked immediately panicked and started thrashing around aimlessly. He reeled it in without much enthusiasm. Oh look. Another remoraid.

“You again! Didn’t I hook you an hour ago?”

The remoraid flailed around and made ‘Omp! Omp!’ noises at him. “Go on, get!” he sighed, sending it back into the lake with a flick of his rod.

“Ha-haaa! Up you come!” Eve whooped from her spot further down the shore, her reel whirling madly. The Net Ball on the end of the line erupted from the water, bouncing and jiggling. The furious pokémon escaped just as Eve managed to swing it ashore. A sleek orangey-brown pokémon landed heavily on the grass, twin-tailed with a wide yellow collar around its neck.

“Bui-bui!” it growled, baring its teeth. Lyra was already airborne and ready to battle, her gauzy wings churning the fog.

“Mach Punch!” Eve commanded.

“Diii-an!” Lyra cried, shooting forwards. The wild buizel stood up on its hind legs and blasted out a Water Gun. Lyra spun round so the Water Gun splashed off her wing cases. She spun back around and changed her attack into an Air Cutter. Her attack lacerated Buizel’s belly, throwing it off its feet.

Buizel recovered quickly, dropping down to all fours. It threw itself into a bounding run, building momentum and leaping high into the air. Neither Eve nor Lyra reacted – until Lyra intercepted at the last moment with a stinging Mach Punch, pitching Buizel back down into the mud.

“Al-right, Lyra!” Eve called. “Go Dive Ball!”

Eve made the throw look so easy. The Dive Ball snapped up the buizel, wobbled half-heartedly, and pinged shut.

“Yea-heh-eeah!” Eve crowed. “Payday for little Eve! Uh-huh. Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

Josh tried to ignore Eve’s excessive celebrations, gazing resentfully across the lake. Something was cruising purposefully out there – Josh thought he caught sight of red spines and a smirking mouth. Was that a totodile?

“Right,” Josh growled, throwing down his rod. “Come on, Screwball. Let’s make a catch our way.”

*​

An industrious twenty minutes later, Josh was kneeling behind a handy bush, watching a pile of chicken giblets. Somewhere in that heap of squishy meat was a Net Ball Josh had hidden as a straightforward trap. Hah! To hell with fishing. A good squeeze of raw meat juices into the water should be enough to attract the attention of a passing buizel.

“Right, Screwball. There’s a good chance this won’t be a straight-up catch, so if this doesn’t work -” Josh realised that Screwball was staring off into space. Well, it always stared off into space, but this time it wasn’t paying attention.

“Hey. Screwball. Focus,” Josh said, rapping it sharply on the head.

“Mag?”

“Right. So if it escapes then you hit it with Thunder Wave, then Thundershock. Repeat it back to me.”

“Magnemite. Mag. Mag.”

“Right -”

A harrowing wail ripped through the fog, blank terror seized him, his heart skipped a beat –

The mystery Ghost-type was back and screaming happily about two feet away from Josh’s ear, rolling its red-and-yellow eyes dramatically. Josh flailed at it with the butt of the Capture Spear, realising a bit too late that there was no point. It just laughed at his fury and embarrassment and faded away.

“Magnemite!” Screwball said urgently. Josh spun round to see what Screwball was looking at and hurriedly ducked behind the bush. A submerged pokémon was heading towards the pile of assorted giblets.

A small crocodilian pokémon emerged from the lake. I knew it was a totodile! It eagerly scuttled up to the trap on all fours. Come on. You know you want to bite it. The totodile let out a croaky cry and happily chomped down. There was a flash of red, and the astonished totodile was sucked into the hidden Net Ball.

“Ha-ha-ha!” Josh crowed, leaping to his feet. “Suck it, Eve!” he yelled down the shore. “Told you it would work – oh, heads up Screwball.”

The Net Ball’s capture lock failed, releasing the flailing totodile. It caught sight of Screwball and opened its maw wide, displaying rather a lot of teeth. Screwball just stared back. Unperturbed, the totodile kept on trying to intimidate Screwball – that is, until Screwball blasted it with a crackling tangle of Thunder Wave bolts.

Totodile hissed and flailed at the red-and-blue sparks crackling over its scales. It spewed a short blast of Water Gun, hitting Screwball’s body dead centre.

“Magnurrr …” it slurred, drifting drunkenly. Totodile leapt teeth-first and bit down triumphantly on one of its magnets. It grumbled and muttered indistinctly, apparently pleased with itself. Come on Screwball, you know what to do!

A long spark snapped lazily off Screwball’s body. Josh smiled with satisfaction, just before his magnemite hit totodile with a Thundershock right through the teeth. The totodile dropped into the mud, smoking gently.

Josh smartly stepped forward and jabbed the smouldering totodile with the Capture Spear. The Dive Ball mounted on the end almost immediately pinged shut. Yes! I love these specialist Poké Balls.

“Ha-ha! Flash, snap, ping!” he shouted back to Eve. Even at this distance the fog made her look washed-out and hazy, “Payday for Mr Cook! See Eve, that is why I study!”

*​

The night was cold, and damp. The view across the lake was velvety black. Here and there chinchou-lights glowed with ghostly bioluminescence, beautifully ethereal through the veil of fog. Down by the reeds Eve baited the lines for night fishing, while Josh sat in a pool of firelight, peacefully preparing a chicken with his favourite knife. He roughly spatchcocked it and secured it on newly whittled wooden skewers. After that, he combined salt, pepper, ginger and olive oil in a mug with a bit of lime juice for the seasoning. That mixture he rubbed thoroughly onto the meat before it went over the fire to roast.

It didn’t take long for the smell of food to draw Eve back to camp. “What we having?” she asked eagerly.

“Chicken,” Josh replied.

“All that extra weight for food? You’re a fool, Joshua Cook,” Eve teased.

“You’ll be eating those words for dessert, Evelina Joy,” he replied mildly. “And it wasn’t that far to carry.”

“We’ll see,” Eve said. “Can I help?”

“Well you can feed the pokémon and wash up some of the utensils.”

By the time their various clamouring pokémon had been fed and returned to their Poké Balls, the chicken was cooked and cooling. Josh chopped it in half and handed Eve her piece. They ate it hot and steaming with chunks of seedy bread, unselfconsciously tearing it apart with their fingers.

“Ready to admit that I’m right yet, Evey?” Josh asked innocently.

Eve gave him an odd look. “Did you just call me a pokémon?”

“What?” Josh said. The words lined themselves up in his head – Evey/Eevee. “Oh. No! Sorry.”

“Don't be so quick to say sorry. I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” Eve protested sheepishly.

“What?” Josh repeated. “Since when are you a girly-girl?”

“Hey! I have a feminine side. You just haven’t seen much of it yet.”

Josh shrugged inwardly. Who am I to argue? “Alright then, Eevee – ready to eat your words yet?”

“No. I haven’t finished my chicken.”

“Ugh,” Josh sighed. “Looks like you’re enjoying that. I think I’ll take that as an admission.”

“Mm-mn, no you won’t, ‘cause -”

“Too late, Eevee!” Josh cut in. Eve pulled a face at him, and went back to her chicken.

Later, Eve lay back on her sleeping bag, singing to herself. Josh sat in the shelter of his own tent, running an oiled cloth over his knife. It was the same one he’d bought from the steelsmith on Dewford Island. Strictly speaking there was no particular reason to carry this knife over a stainless steel belt knife, but Josh had always loved the simple beauty of his bowie. What a craftsman that man was. None of that Croconaw Dundee rubbish in his bowie knives – the knife Josh had bought was a dignified six inches long. He tilted the blade to catch the firelight. The blade was pattern-welded from a mix of carbon and aron steel – the process had left a pattern of ripples and whorls in the steel.

“I'm on a master quest, I want the whole world to see ...” Eve sang. She had a low, husky singing voice, “Is carrying a weapon a Mulberry Town thing?” she asked, wriggling round onto her stomach.

“Weapon? What, this?” Josh said, aghast. “This isn't a weapon, this is a multi-tool!”

Eve raised an eyebrow at him. “Ok, it's a multi-tool. Want to play a game for a while?”

“I'm not playing 'Never have I ever'. That's asking for trouble,” he replied.

“Give me some credit. I've got a pack of cards. Brr. Let me put my hoodie on first, though.”

Josh slipped the knife back into its scabbard with a disdainful sigh. A weapon! He discreetly turned his back on the sight of Eve struggling into her hoodie dress. It was irrational, but he didn't really want to be reminded of her tits right now. 'I know what I want this evening.' Josh tried to exile the image from his mind, instead busying himself with rummaging in his backpack.

He stoked up the fire while Eve shuffled the cards. She huddled up as close to the fire as she could without burning herself. “You build a good fire, but I'm still a bit chilly.”

“Then you'll be glad that I brought this,” Josh said, producing a small bottle. “Blackthorn Spirit, the finest single malt whisky within its price bracket. And a fine way to warm up on a cold night.”

“Joshua Cook, are you trying to spoil me?” Eve said with a wink.

“Spoil you, nothing. If I was trying to spoil you I'd have asked you your favourite drink,” Josh said. “Now give me your cup.”

Eve laughed and threw him her mug. He poured them both a generous measure of whisky, with a splash of water to take the edge off. Eve pushed aside a cluster of assorted Poké Balls to make space for their game.

“The game,” Eve announced, “is Crazy Eights.”

“Are those tarot cards?” Josh asked. He sipped at his whisky and water, savouring the earthy fire of it, and the lingering smoky aftertaste.

“They're prettier than ordinary cards. Besides, the minor arcana has fifty-two cards in four suits anyway,” Eve said, taking a draught of her own drink. “You know, this'd be great with cola.”

“What! You can't put cola in -”

Eve started giggling. “That was too easy, Josh. I'm kidding, you boy scout.”

The first card was the knight of swords, roaring at the viewer with his sword raised. Josh tutted and played his eight of swords. “Err, coins,” he said.

Eve promptly played her six of coins. “So what are you going to do with your money?”

“Hmm. You know, I don't really know. What about you?”

“I'm going to buy a TM. I know just the one: Drain Punch.”

“Blast. Out of coins,” Josh said. He ended up drawing another nine cards, “So why Drain Punch?”

“Lyra already knows Reflect and Protect. With an Iron Fist-assisted Drain Punch she'll be surprisingly durable,” Eve said, playing her eight of cups. “Cups. You should invest in a TM yourself.”

The knight of cups looked smugly at Josh from his card. “Hmm. Do you think Screwball would like learning a new move?”

Eve shrugged and played the equally smug queen of cups. “It's your pokémon. What move are you thinking of?”

“Don't know. Something more powerful than Thundershock,” he said. Eve took a casual sip of her whisky and water. She played the nine of swords after Josh's queen of swords.

“I've only ever known one other girl to really enjoy whisky without cola,” Josh said conversationally.

“Oh, sweetling,” Eve said, winking lazily at him. “When will you learn that I'm an exceptional girl?”

*​

By the time they'd started the second round Josh was feeling light-headed and content. Eve was thoroughly tipsy and smiling merrily. “Sinnoh,” she said. “Defin'ly want to travel Sinnoh someday. Where d'you want to go? Come on, dream holiday, you can go anywhere.”

“Anywhere? Then … Orange Islands. I like to be able to hear the sea,” Josh said, remembering the drawn-out crash of waves on the shore.

“I thought you liked the forest?”

“I do. But it's the sea I really love,” he said.

“Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls,
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.”

Eve gave him a long, thoughtful look. “You ever wanna confuse my mother, recite that in front of her,” she said wryly. “Hey, you should go see Sinnoh too! Those high mountain forests by the fjords. I want to take the train journey there someday.”

“I've heard of it. You know that line was one of Brunel's projects -”

A harrowing wail tore apart the quiet of the night. Josh's heart jolted and so did his arm, spraying half his whisky and water into the grass. The mystery Ghost-type appeared in the shadows, gleefully screaming its childish laugh. Its red-and-yellow eyes gleamed brightly in the firelight. Right, that tears it!

Josh searched furiously in the grass, seizing the first Poké Ball he could find and flinging it at the laughing pokémon. It wasn't until he started to throw that he realised how much the whisky was affecting his hand-eye co-ordination. By then it was too late, the Ball had left his hand and was tumbling in the vague direction of the mystery pokémon -

- except, somehow, the Ball struck it on the forehead. The Ball opened in a flash of of red, snapped shut, and fell to the ground, rattling frantically. It bounced into the shadows, the button light flashing fretfully in the dark.

… ping.

They stared at the quiescent Ball. “Huh,” Josh said.“I'm not sure I meant to do that.”

He got up unsteadily and retrieved the Ball. The top hemisphere was deep pink, with a heart design on the front. “Oh. It was the Love Ball.”

“What're you going to do with it?” Eve asked, pouring herself another drink.

“Don't know,” Josh said, sitting himself down. “I don't even know what 'it' is.”

“Use my Poklédex. I mean Prokédex. Mmn. Gotta pee.”

As Eve meandered off into the fog, Josh hunted out her Pokédex. The HANDY912i was about the size of a small notebook, slim, brushed-silver in colour, and well named. It occurred to Josh that he might soon be able to afford one of his own.

“Misdreavus, the Screech Pokémon,” it droned. “Misdreavus loves to startle people at night with its screaming. It apparently absorbs fear as nourishment.”

That explains why the little bitch kept pestering me. Misdreavus had a respectable moveset – Ominous Wind, Will o' Wisp, Future Sight … maybe I'll keep this one, he thought muzzily.

“You are so lucky to have a cock,” Eve declared, reappearing from the fog.

“... is that so?” Josh said, mystified.

“I could piss in any old bush if I had something to aim with.”

Josh stared at his friend. Eve was swaying slightly. “Your head's full of Blackthorn Spirit, bud.”

“I'm not that drunk. You're drunk, too.”

“Yes, yes I am. But you're the one talking about cocks,” he said bluntly.

“I'm not as think as you drunk I am,” Eve insisted.

“You're as think as I drunk … er,” Josh started. He reduced the Love Ball and tossed it into his tent. I'll think about that in the morning.

*​

Josh awoke to a cold morning and a vicious headache. Sour pain pressed down on his skull. His mouth was dry and tasted like he'd been eating PVA glue last night. Something warm and friendly was curled up by his waist, and he patted it vaguely.

“Nuurgh, gerroff,” Eve complained. Josh pushed himself to his elbows and refocused – Eve was curled up into a loose ball, cuddling his leg earnestly. Her hair had somehow woven itself into a straw-like thatch during the night. He gingerly lay back down, too headachey to care about Eve tangled round his leg. Why, precisely, did I do this to myself? The events of last night floated through his aching head – it seemed like the stupidest thing he'd done was keep drinking that blasted whisky. Shoving Eve aside, he stumbled out of the tent in search of painkillers.

The painkillers eventually turned up in Eve's backpack. After medicating himself, he brought Eve a mug of water and a few tablets. “Come on, bud,” he said gently. “Meds and water.”

Eve groaned and made a noise that might have been a curse.

“At least take the painkillers,” Josh persisted.

“Nuurgh! Let me die,” Eve mumbled.

Josh sighed. He was in no mood for this. “Evelina Joy, if you don't take your medicine, then I'm going to have Magnemite screech in your ear. Now do as you're told.”

Eve tried to glare at him. “I hate you.”

Josh ignored her and set to improvising breakfast. Something had made off with what was left of the chicken during the night, which was just as well. There were a couple of handfuls of dried pasta in Eve's backpack. Josh sat in thought for a moment. Why did I do this to myself? … ok, let's see what we can find.

Nearly an hour later he'd found more or less what he was looking for – a bunch of wild greens and a handful of fairy ring mushrooms, enough for a makeshift stew. After a while Eve emerged, looking at the food with a mixture of hunger and dismay.

“The pokémon been fed?” she asked.

“Not yet. Screwball's fine and Bulbasaur can graze. Oh … that reminds me.”

The captured Misdreavus had found her way onto his belt during the night. He unsnapped the Love Ball from its clasp and stared at it pensively. Misdreavus was, well, she was an interesting pokémon. She was obviously a rare species, since Eve hadn't identified her right away, and between her typing and moveset she would make a useful addition to his team. But even so … there was something about the capture that bothered him. The capture had been a lucky one, really, and that didn't seem fair to Misdreavus.

He made up his mind. “Come on out, Bulbasaur.”

Bulbasaur yawned and stretched. [Have fun last night?] he said drily.

“Very amusing. I might need you to translate for me.”

[Fine,] Bulbasaur said, lying down in the grass. Josh released Misdreavus from the Ball. She smiled innocently at him, with none of the momentary confusion that Screwball used to show after re-materialising. Josh knelt down in front of her, to get down to a more or less equal level.

“Misdreavus,” he said, “I'm giving you a choice. You can go free and become a wild pokémon again, or you can come with me and Bulbasaur.”

He placed the Love Ball in the grass between them. Misdreavus looked at it, then at him, and then at Bulbasaur. “Miss?” she said.

[Yes,] said Bulbasaur. Misdreavus drifted over to the idle Love Ball. She blinked at it with her big, childish eyes.

“Misdreavus!” she said, and butted the button, smiling beatifically as she recalled herself. Josh let out a sigh – not of relief, as such, but more of contentment. Misdreavus had chosen to stay, for whatever reason. Something more was needed, though … a name. What to call her? Ah. I know.

“Fionn.”

*​

Josh sipped at his stew, wondering vaguely about seasonings. Bulbasaur lay snuggled up close, in the same spot he'd occupied at his side for years.

“Do you think this would benefit from a bit of ginger?” he asked Eve.

Eve gave him a tired look. “It's fine, Josh. Ugh. How can you stand to eat?”

“I'm hungover, too, Eve. Trust me, you'll feel better with some food in you.”

There was a soft splash from down by the shore. The silhouette of a pokémon appeared in the fog, vaguely fox-like with a long cetacean tail. It stalked closer, head held low.

“Vaporeon! Vaay,” it growled.

“That's unlikely,” Eve remarked.

[He's after your breakfast.]

“Go away,” Josh warned. “I'm not in the mood.”

Vaporeon's head snapped up – it fired a Water Gun right at him. Bulbasaur leapt in front of the spray and took the attack head on. He landed and shook himself dry. [Back off or else!] he barked.

“Hold back there, Bulbasaur,” Josh commanded. His head was still throbbing, and he really didn't want to battle, but he wasn't about to let a wild pokémon bully him out of his breakfast either, “Alright Fionn, show me what you can do!”

“MIS-dreavus!” Fionn cried happily as she re-materialised.

“Bulbasaur, I might need your help,” Josh said. “Fionn, Ominous Wind!”

“Miss?” Fionn said, looking round as if to say 'Who, me?'.

“Vay!” Vaporeon yipped, blasting out another Water Gun. Fionn casually phased out of the way, giving Vaporeon a look of kitten-like shock.

[Use your Ominous Wind! It's ok, Josh knows what he's doing!]

“Mis? Miss,” Fionn said, breathing out a horizontal cyclone shot through with ribbons of ghostly purplish light. The vaporeon shuddered violently as if cold – Fionn laughed and faded away. Damnit! Where the hell did she disappear to? Josh scanned the fog, trying to catch sight of Fionn's floating locks.

Vaporeon switched its attention to Bulbasaur, tensing up for an attack. Fionn reappeared behind it and shrieked, startling Vaporeon so badly that it had to scrabble to keep its footing.

So that's what it looks like happening to someone else. “Good, Ominous Wind, again!”

But Fionn didn't use Ominous Wind – in fact, she didn't seem to do anything. Vaporeon seized its chance, whipping round like a stung cat. A wavering beam of unearthly green light shot from its mouth, bathing Fionn in a strange rippling glow. Fionn screamed in pain and alarm. Aargh, my head, my damn head!

“Fionn, good try! Return,” Josh commanded, plucking his pokémon out of harm's way with the recall beam. “Bulbasaur -”

[Battle's on!] Bulbasaur finished. Vaporeon whipped round to face Bulbasaur again, snarling at him. Bulbasaur growled back, a low growl that said he was prepared to finish whatever Vaporeon started.

“Vine Whip,” Josh ordered. Bulbasaur lashed out quickly, striking Vaporeon smartly in the face. It retaliated with a full-force Water Gun – Bulbasaur ignored it and aimed a Vine Whip at its legs. Vaporeon changed tactics and tried a Quick Attack.

A cold wind blew from across the lake. Vaporeon sprang over Bulbasaur's scything vine – suddenly, a multi-coloured bolt of lightning struck down from nowhere. Vaporeon howled, haloed by the psychic blast. Josh's mind raced. That's got to have been Future Sight. He snatched up a spare Dive Ball. Ready or not, you will be caught!

His pitch was far from elegant, but the Ball hit Vaporeon on the tail nonetheless. It fought gamely, but ultimately unsuccessfully against the Dive Ball's capture lock.

… ping!

*​

The air was bright and clear, with a pleasantly earthy smell. Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves, the woodland halls were warm and green. Josh leaned back against the young redwood and sighed contentedly. Somewhere nearby a wildwood stream chattered in its stony bed. Eve sat beside him, but otherwise they were alone in the woods.

“Beware the Sea!
If thou hearest the cry of the gull on shore,
Thy heart shall rest in the forest no more,” Eve recited.

“Too late,” Josh murmured.

There was a thoughtful pause.

“I've realised something,” Eve said quietly.

Josh lazily turned to look at her. “What's that, bud?”

Eve winked at him. “Carpe diem.”

She kissed him suddenly and enthusiastically. He found himself kissing her back. Eve ran her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, and he took the cue to move his hand to her waist. I can't believe I'm getting away with this. Her tongue slipped into his mouth – he panicked, and pulled away hastily.

“Why'd you stop?” Eve asked petulantly. Josh said nothing, but she somehow understood anyway. “Stop trying to keep up with me. Just let go,” she said. She gently but firmly pushed him onto the carpet of leaf litter with a smile that was both desirous and reassuring; this time Josh relaxed and hoped for the best. Before he knew it, his hand found its way under her shirt – she wasn't wearing any underwear. The sound of an alarm clock echoed through the forest like birdsong.

“I want my coffee,” Josh said.

He opened his eyes, and surfaced from the dream. For a fleeting moment he wondered where he was. I'm at Len Town Pokémon Centre. It's Osturday morning. I was at White Lake yesterday. He reached out muzzily and cancelled the alarm. The memory of the dream crystallised in his mind. A fierce blush rose to his cheeks. For some reason he felt acutely guilty, which was irrational because it's not like he actually had felt Eve up. Dreams were surreal, and Josh knew he had no control over them.

That logical train of thought didn't help much.

“Hey lazybones,” Eve said, making Josh jump a little. She was already awake and sitting up in the bed opposite, “You ok?” she added, giving him a concerned look.

“Bad dream,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”

That was true, after a fashion. Eve didn't have to worry about his dreams – whatever happened in his sleep, Josh wasn't going to let bleed over into the waking world.

Next Chapter: Future Sight

Atlas: Obscure Adaptations

Spoiler

If there was an award for the most obscure location adaptations, I don't think it would be arrogant to say that I'd be a strong contender. Len Town isn't my own invention – it's actually a town of the day from The Johto Journeys (EP156 The Psychic Sidekicks). It's not given an exact location in the anime, and beyond the fact that it just happens to be around the Ilex Forest there's no particular reason for me to use it at all.

White Lake is even more obscure. Anyone remember the Poké Walker? Yeah, it was one of the Poké Walker areas. The flavour text describes it as “A lake concealed in white mist. It lends a very mysterious feel to the area” - there was actually a lake briefly shown in EP156, so the idea hit me to combine the two.

 

[Beth Pavell]

Responses:

Spoiler

@diamondpearl876: I must admit, I can't remember whether I invented the phrase “blank terror”, or whether I picked it up from somewhere else. I think I should probably expand on one of the points regarding Fionn. In hindsight maybe the chapter needs more of her personality in it.

Oh, yes and: adds diamondpearl to list of shippers. I wonder if someone's going to come up with a clever name for it sometime. You surely didn't think the kissing scene would be real now, did you

@Barfing Ogres: Thanks for your review! You get added to the list of beloved readers ^^ . And there's nothing you can do about it. Fair point on the Azalea arc – it's something I've mentioned before that it ended up being quite long despite cutting out a training sequence as well. The problem was Magnemite, in short.

@Flaze: Bwahaha. Nothing like torturing you, Flaze. Switching from White Lake back into the Heartwoods for a make-out scene would have been one of the weirder scene changes I've written.

@Airt: Breathless, ok, that is good feedback. I wasn't quite sure how the pacing would turn out – I didn't want to belabour this chapter, particularly when it came down to the captures. As usual it seems that I could have got away with a higher wordcount.

I already mentioned via VM about Fionn's nickname, but it bears repeating. I am flattered that you think the references are that clever. I simply felt that since one of the influences on Misdreavus is the banshee, an Irish (Sometimes Welsh, depending on the legend) creature, she should have an Irish name.

@Rediamond: I did study ghost stories a bit to get an idea of how to take on the opening of the chapter. I felt that it was about time some more bad weather found its way into the story. I suppose I had better point now that the “lonely and evil creature” line is a shout-out to the description of the Nazgûl in The Fellowship of the Ring, lest anyone think I invented it.

Regarding the pokémon, I have been meaning to feature Bulbasaur more for a while now. I'm increasingly finding that two trainers building teams means a lot of juggling of pokémon to give them all proper focus. I'm acutely aware that Pineco needs to turn up again sometime soon.

Haha, yes, I'll reluctantly admit that the lemon did make writing the dream easier.

@Sike Saner: Wow, ok that's certainly a first for me. Read in one sitting, really? adds another to list of beloved readers It might surprise you to learn that I don't like cats very much, but Mother has a couple, so I'm very familiar with them. One of them hates me and the other is convinced that I'll love her if only she looks cute enough. Another surprise might be – and I believe I mentioned this in another response spoiler somewhere – that I don't like camping either. I need my hot showers xD

@kintsugi: How dare you. Every chapter was pain and tears to write, they never sprout from nowhere. You have got a bit softer – what have they been doing to you at that school?

You're probably right about the pacing. I do prefer to infer and suggest though dialogue and reactions these days, using inner monologue sparingly. I was trying – in that instance – to reinforce Josh's naturally observant nature ahead of Chapter Thirteen so it wouldn't come across as something I'd invented on the spot. Perhaps in hindsight it does detract from the mood of the encounter.

Sir William is pure silliness for the sake of silliness. The original plan for the chapter called for a bit of explanation – Sir William was going to be shown to be a twerpy sort of guy living what he believed to be a life of knightly honour. It was going to riff off how a lot of trainers both in the games and anime have odd personas (Remember Samurai from EP004?), but I decided that explaining it just took away the humour. It's for that reason that I also didn't push the Holy Grail references further.

I am acutely aware of Bulbasaur's relative lack of focus. Juggling pokémon characters is proving to be a trial >_<

Speaking of heights, well, I'm 5'5” and short for an Englishman but not hugely so. I don't think I ever defined Josh's height, but he's not a big man by any means.

When it comes to Josh/Eve's friendship … I sometimes think that maybe I should make the time they're spending together clearer. I tend to forget that the reader won't see the full timeline, and that they're spending the majority of every day in one another's company. In the future (In other words, after the Awards) I may make Eve's inflection of “sweetling” a little different – it's supposed to be fairly casual usage.

Bringing me inevitably to Thirteen. I'm willing to admit that I may have pushed the fairy tale allusions too far. The idea is that Ninetales is trying to curse Josh, rather than merely attack him. Kisses have power in fairy tales – and this is an allusion to Thomas the Rhymer, where the titular character kisses (In some versions more than that) the Queen of the Elves and is thus tricked into a magical contract.

It would be fair to say, I think, that Ninetales is a fantasy plot cheat. Her spite brings an issue to a head that may otherwise have lain buried and ignored, but I don't see that as a bad thing. What's the point of a fantasy setting if you don't get to play around with ideas like that xD In any case, the subversion comes from the fact that they deal with it sensibly by talking rather than by trying to ignore it. I also wanted an on-screen instance showing why Eve trusts Josh ahead of the drunk scenes in the next chapter. Which still needs a bit of tweaking to the narrative, I see > <

Oh, and does this mean I can add you to the shipper list, El?

Version History

Spoiler

1.1 : Fixed dialogue error in the first scene
1.2 : Clarified Josh's reaction to Eve's fidgeting. Fixed description error in Ranger vision. Extended final conversation in the hall
1.3 : Rewrote the futures seen through the doors

Chapter Sixteen – Future Sight (Version 1.3)

Joshua​

North of Len Town, Eskershire gave way to historic Sandonshire. The shire was named for the castle town of Sandham on the east coast, encompassing Route 32 and the countryside northeast of Len Town up to the Ruins of Alph. Small towns and villages dotted the farmland; stone circles stood on the odd isolated hilltop.

Walking along the Sandonshire lanes was easy going after hiking down the Ilex Forest trainer's trails. Josh and Eve village-hopped, eating at village pubs and staying the nights at amateur bed-and-breakfasts. Usually, there was someone in each village who was prepared to put up passing trainers in a spare room in exchange for a few dollars. On the third day they pitched their tents in a small field just outside the village of Hunter's Green. It was one of those rare evenings where the setting sun gilded the edges of honey-coloured clouds and washed the landscape in golden light.

Fionn lurked in the shade of Josh's tent. Being a Ghost-type, it wasn't healthy for her to be out in the bright sunlight for long. She was, in many ways, the opposite of Screwball. She had a childish, gregarious temperament that was easy to read compared with Screwball's range of stares. Her sociable nature was most noticeable at dusk, when she'd harass him for sweets and play Tag with Bulbasaur.

Through sparring matches, Josh had discovered that his misdreavus liked battling with a trainer, up to a point. She followed commands enthusiastically, so long as she was commanded to battle capriciously. Fionn loved using tricks and traps; when Josh insisted on chess-game tactics she sulked for the rest of the day. But it was Bulbasaur who was responsible for a lot of Fionn's transition from a wild to a domestic pokémon. He'd started treating her as a protégé, teaching her, cajoling her, chiding her. At the moment he lay basking in the evening sun, keeping one watchful eye on her.

Josh was reading a book – well, he was trying to. Eve wouldn't stop pacing and prowling about. Every couple of minutes she'd sit down and browse her Pokédex or something, only to fidget noisily until she eventually leapt up again. The sight of her constantly crossing his peripheral vision was becoming increasingly distracting.

When Eve threw herself down for the umpteenth time Josh's temper finally snapped. “What the hell has got into you today?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” Eve said guiltily. “Oh, I know! Let's work on your Poké Ball pitching!”

“No.”

“Oh come on! Come on, boy scout, let's get active! You know you want to play,” she coaxed with sly cheerfulness.

“No! You're driving me nuts, I'm going for a walk,” Josh said, quickly recalling his pokémon.

“For how long?”

“I don't know. About an hour?” Josh said, grabbing the Capture Spear – well, it functioned just as well as a walking stick – and starting away across the field.

“About an hour?”

“Fine, an hour!”

“Really an hour?” Eve called after him almost anxiously.

“Eve!”

*​

The sign at the fork in the lane read:

Whittington – 4m
Hunter's Green – ½m
Great Bottom – 3m

Josh strolled down the lane towards the village, humming quietly to himself. He’d forgotten the joys of walking by himself, and missed them. Well, truth be told he’d probably miss the joys of walking with Joy before too long – but her incessant bloody fidgeting had been annoying him all day. Maybe an hour apart will do us both good. He stopped by the village green, a wide triangle of grass, punctuated with thick clusters of nodding daffodils. Most of the village stood around the green, including the pub and the corner shop.

All this would have been entirely usual for rural Johto, if it weren't for the harlequin girl.

She gestured extravagantly, gracefully, like a dancer. A scattering of white feathers were twined into her jet black hair, and she wore a catsuit of bright red-and-green diamond checks. She was calling in a silvery voice:

“Come and see, oh you must come and see! Oh, what sights there are to see! Things that are and things that have been! Things that are yet to be seen!”

She spotted him from across the green, and literally danced over to him. Up close she was strikingly pretty. “Take a chance and come with me!” she declared. “Come and see, oh you must come and see!”

For a moment Josh was tempted to tell her to go away, but then he did have an hour to kill. “Oh, alright. I will come and see,” he said, indulging her wearily.

Josh followed the dancing, cartwheeling harlequin girl through the village. On the other side of the village, partially screened from sight by a stand of poplars, there was a velvety-black circus tent pitched in the middle of a field. Butterflies scattered out of the way, like fluttering scraps of brilliant colour dancing and flirting before his eyes. A xatu perched atop the central tent pole, sitting as still as if it had been carved from oak. Just as Josh entered the tent, it suddenly spread its wings.

“Xaaa …” it droned.

Inside, a heavy black curtain sparkling with star designs separated an atrium from the main tent. Another pair of harlequins stood on either side of the curtain; one was tall and saturnine, the other jowly and vaguely sinister. Both wore red-and-green checks, with cloaks of white feathers and yellow beaked face masks.

“He has come to see,” Harlequin Girl said.

“So he shall see,” said Sinister.

“Ten dollars is the fee,” said Saturnine. They spoke with rapid-fire delivery, each speaking almost immediately after the other.

“You haven't even told me what the attraction is yet,” Josh pointed out, making no move towards his wallet.

“Things that are,” said Sinister.

“Things that have been,” said Harlequin Girl.

“Things that are yet to be seen,” said Saturnine.

Josh sighed. “Alright, fine. But if I don't like it I will get my money back.”

*​

It was pitch dark beyond the curtain. He took a couple of experimental steps forward. His boots rang aloud on what sounded like wooden flooring. Light abruptly flooded in from above, like the sun rising in the space of a few seconds.

Josh found himself standing in a round hall. The walls were smooth, white marble lined with polished ebony doors. The floor was red mahogany, liable to be scratched up by the hobnails in his boots. Early evening light spilled in through an elaborate rose-shaped skylight.

Evidently those harlequins were mad enough to pitch a tent around the hall. Except … Josh did a few quick estimates – if the doors lead to other rooms, then the tent should be too small to contain them. The hairs on his arms started to tingle, memories of the Deepwoods welling from the back of his mind. There was a taste of illusion to this. How real is this place?

“Does it really matter?” a voice said from behind him. A jolt of sharp surprise shot through him – Josh reflexively spun round and brought the Capture Spear down hard. The dry hazel smashed in half with a splintery crack.

The young man straightened up, unharmed. “You proud of yourself?” he said irritably. Josh sighed, just as irritably. The young man was his exact double, minus the Spear and Poké Balls. Josh immediately gave him a critical look.

“I know what you're thinking,” the other Josh said hurriedly. “I'm no pokémon.”

Josh stared at his doppelgänger, thinking. “… the xatu. This isn't real, is it?”

“It's an illusion,” the other Josh admitted. “As for 'real', well, it would be more accurate to say that this isn't a usual place. It may as well be real for you.”

“Then who are you?” he said.

“I am you. More or less. Thanks to Xatu I know enough about this place to be your guide. But you already knew that.”

Josh paused for a moment. He was about to object when he noticed that he really did already know this – the knowledge appeared in his head like sudden realisation. “I know this, because Josh knows this,” he said acerbically. Other-Josh shrugged non-committally, quietly ignoring the movie reference.

“So … what happens now?” Josh asked, half-hoping that the answer would be 'nothing'. The light flooding in through the skylight gilded the marble with subtle shades of gold.

“Try a door,” Other-Josh said.

Josh selected a door at random, his boots ringing loud on the mahogany flooring. The polished ebony gleamed at him; there was a brass doorknob in the centre. He hesitated briefly, wondering what he was going to see, then swung the door open.

The door opened onto a classroom. It was as though he were looking out of a cupboard at the front of the room. The afternoon sun was softened to a restful dimness by blinds drawn across the wide lancet windows. There were a number of clues here and there that marked it out as a classroom in a private school, among them the newness of the books, the modernity of the furniture, the smartness of the student’s uniforms – and the fact that they were all teenage girls. The teacher, sitting at his desk quietly marking homework, supported that impression. There was something oddly familiar about the man – severely dressed in his plain tie and plain waistcoat, slim, austere glasses and salt-and-pepper curls.

Every last girl was fast asleep, for some reason. The girls were all lying slumped on their desks, resting their heads on a pillow or a cushion. Some of them were snoring gently.

Josh stood on the threshold for a while, watching the scene carefully. The xatu’s illusion was a powerful one, flawless, as far as he could tell. He took a careful step forwards, more than half-expecting to walk face first into the side of the tent. Nothing happened. Instead his boots shushed on carpet, a disquietingly ordinary sensation. Neither students nor teacher stirred, as if he weren’t there at all. Now Josh was in the room he began to notice some odd details – there was a kettle in one corner, accompanied by large jars of coffee, sugar, and teabags. Perched on the edge of the teacher’s desk was a tall stack of used paper plates.

At that moment a woman swept imperiously in from the corridor. If the teacher was severely dressed, she radiated cold, stern respectability. She abruptly stopped short, regarding the scene before her with a thoroughly surprised, affronted expression. The teacher acknowledged her with a deferential nod.

“Afternoon, Miss Witherspoon.”

Miss Witherspoon appeared to pull herself together. “Mr Cook, what are you doing?”

“Teaching,” Mr Cook said. Josh hurriedly circled round to get a better look at him.

“Teaching,” Miss Witherspoon repeated.

Josh suddenly realised why the teacher looked familiar. Mr Cook was himself – noticeably older and tidier, with a very short beard, but most certainly himself.

“Mr Cook -” Miss Witherspoon started, but then she spotted the stack of paper plates. She pointed them out at arm's length. “Explain.”

“The girls had half a sandwich each,” Mr Cook said, keeping his voice low. “Nice, fresh mackerel and salad.”

“Hwhat?”

“On brown bread.”

“And this is teaching,” Miss Witherspoon said coldly.

“Yes, ma'am. Excuse me for a moment.” None too quietly, Mr Cook opened the blinds, washing the classroom with sunshine. The girls stirred with a chorus of mumbled complaints.

“Come on, rise and shine, sleeping beauties,” Mr Cook cajoled.

“Oh, Sir, why did you wake us so soo-oon!” someone karped.

“Quiet your fizzog, Tonia, you're not missing English,” Mr Cook said. “Ok, girls, you've got time yet for coffee or cola, but don't overdo it! Why don't we overdo it?”

There was a scatter of grumbles.

“I'm sorry, was that a sentence? Répétez votre réponse, s'il vous plaît!”

“It's 'cause caffeine dun't reelly give you energy, sir.”

“Thank you, Richenda,” Mr Cook said. “Now I've got to have a word with Miss Witherspoon.”

With a none-too elegant hop, Josh followed his older self through the classroom door just before it closed. His face was very calm, which of course meant he was secretly apprehensive.

“Mister Cook,” Miss Witherspoon started. “These girls have grades to maintain. Friday Homeroom is intended to support them in this endeavour. And yet instead of finding a room full of students hard at work, I find them sleeping. And you call this teaching.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Explain.”

“I'm teaching them to look after themselves.”

“Home Economics -”

“Teaches them to cook and clean,” Mr Cook broke in. “Entirely adequately, I might add. I'm teaching them well-being.” He paused to think for a moment.

“These girls don't lack for motivation,” he said mollifyingly. “What they lack is perspective. They treat the trimesterly assessments with as much gravity as the finals. Danielle seems to think that she'll be doomed to poverty if she gets anything less than a B, and I'm quite sure she's not the only one. And so that means studying till two in the morning, most days, chaining energy drinks and never properly winding down.”

“And so you want to teach off-syllabus.”

“I want to teach them healthy ways to deal with the pressure before they turn to unhealthy methods.”

“I'm sure I don't know what you mean. And what about maintaining your student's grades?” Miss Witherspoon persisted.

“Who functions properly on consistently short sleep, ma'am?”

“Yes, well … you will shave your beard, Mr Cook! It does not Do for a male teacher to appear rakish in front of the students!”

“Yes, ma'am,” Mr Cook said obediently.

“You are a teacher, not a disc-jockey!”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“See that you do,” Miss Witherspoon warned.

Josh watched Miss Witherspoon sweep off in a pedagogical wrath, wondering what that ‘rakish’ comment meant. Mr Cook returned to the classroom, this time leaving the door open. After a moment’s dour contemplation, Josh followed. He went back through the open door to the hall, shutting it behind him. The noise and chatter of the girls immediately cut off, and the hush of the hall returned.

Josh stalked thoughtfully around the circumference of the hall, followed at a respectful distance by his faintly-smiling guide. So … this isn’t a usual place. He experimentally opened another door at random.

Behind it was an official battlefield. Young, strong trees overshadowed it; thick, nettle-filled undergrowth torn up by recent battle choked the meadow beneath the leaves. At the near side another older version of himself was handing something to a despondent teenage boy.

“- I present to you the Wood Badge.”

“But … I lost,” the boy protested.

“But you learned,” the older Josh continued. “How much do you know about Grass-types now that you didn’t know two weeks ago? You earned this Badge with your hard work training and preparing for this rematch. Take it. You deserve it.”

Another door. This time he had a view of the back of his own head as he lurked in the lee of a boulder at the top of a gully, observing a pair of charizard tear into one another in the midst of a barren, stony valley. The rock around the fighting was scorched black, the charizard roaring and hissing at each other between attacks. The older Josh was typing blind on a tablet, constantly taking notes while he watched. Suddenly he leapt down into the gully – not a moment too soon as a Dragon Pulse scoured the boulder with violet flame.

Another door. Another older version of himself stood in a conference room, severely, almost fussily dressed, next to a tall board showing an array of neatly arranged photos of jewellery. A panel of three very professional-looking women sat before him, with impassive, faintly critical expressions.

“- fashion has trended towards the elaborate for many seasons,” he was saying. “I’m bringing the designs back to a very simple, very contemporary look. The Legendary Wing motif is subtly carried through the collection – as you can see, the Silver Wing suggested here and here, the Rainbow Wing on the ring here. The Wings mirror one another with some of the His ‘n’ Hers pieces -”

“- I see that in the His ‘n’ Hers collection you have some matched barrettes,” one of the women interrupted. “Can you explain that?”

“There’s been a greater movement in recent years towards … ‘metrosexual’ styles and fashions,” he replied, trying to pick his words carefully. “The ‘man-bag’, the ‘man-bun’, etcetera … despite these fashions being in vogue with fashionable celebrities, there’s still something very self-conscious about the concept. What I’ve created here – with the barrettes, the chokers, the pendants – is an attempt to bring an unselfconscious elegance to the style.”

The woman gave him a cool look that went on for just a few seconds too long, while another made a few cryptic notes.

“What are these?” Josh asked, still watching from the doorway.

“Futures,” Other-Josh said. “They could be your future.”

“Mr Cook,” the third woman said in an authoritative voice, laying down her pens. “I think your collections would be a fit for the Saffron branch of Fleury.”

“What?” Mr Cook said disbelievingly.

“Suitably up-marketed, of course.”

The three of them began an animated discussion, while his older self watched helplessly.

“- high quality gold and platinum, certainly -”

“Can you work with diamond, Mr Cook?”

“- some form of prestige endorsement, obviously -”

“Are you sure?” Mr Cook managed weakly.

“You must understand, Joshua,” the third woman said rather patronisingly. “We are not just selling a product. We are selling a brand. We are selling you,” she gazed into thin air, as if reading off an invisible board. “Metal Earth jewellery, designed by salt-of-the-earth jeweller Joshua Cook, the man who pulled himself up from the coalface to dazzle high society with his stylish simplicity.”

“Do these doors show what will happen, or what might happen?” Josh asked sceptically. The scene behind this door was an unconvincing one.

“Yes,” Other-Josh replied.

“Yes, alright, I walked into that one,” Josh snapped, closing the door. “You know damn well what I meant.”

Other-Josh half-smiled at him. “They all have potential. Any of these futures could be yours, if you want it.”

Potential. Well, that’s a broad word. There were eleven doors in total. Eleven doors. Eleven potential futures. Hmm. He experimentally opened the next door along.

On the other side of this door, there was a battle.

A drab khaki jeep hurried down a dirt path by a strip of woodland, followed by a motorcyclist. In the flatbed behind the jeep sat a man in a leather jacket next to a crate full of Poké Balls. Suddenly, a bellowing rhyhorn thundered out onto the path – the driver swerved hard and ended up skidding right into it with a crash. A squad of pokémon rangers burst from the trees, one riding a ponyta – a ranger vaulted off the rhyhorn – converged on the stricken jeep in grim silence. The motorcyclist sped off down the path.

“Jenny!” one of the rangers shouted, his bronze sergeant's oak leaf flashing on his epaulette. The mounted ranger flipped a salute and galloped off after the motorcycle.

The man in the leather jacket leapt off the flatbed. There was a foot long machete in his fist. He charged the sergeant with a savage yell, chopping wildly down. The sergeant calmly drew his baton and blocked the slash in one sweeping movement. His free hand shot up and seized the man's wrist. His adversary started to throw a punch – the sergeant simply brought his baton down onto his fist.

“Drop your weapon!” the sergeant commanded. The man struggled and earned himself a sharp blow on the forearm. He howled, and the machete slipped from his fingers.

“On your knees! On your knees!”

Maybe it was the threat of the baton, but the man seemed to realise that the game was up. The sergeant wrestled him to the ground and snapped a set of cuffs on his wrists. “I'm arresting you on suspicion of pokémon poaching,” he said methodically. “You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be given as evidence in a court of law.”

The other rangers had the man's companions subdued and cuffed. The sergeant pulled off his field cap, revealing a tired, stern face – a familiar tired face.

“You're telling me I could be good enough to be a pokémon ranger? That I could make it to Ranger Sergeant?” Josh said pessimistically. “Really, me?”

“Why not?” Other-Josh said. “You're focusing too much on the physical side. Rangers have to possess intelligence, patience, integrity … now who does that sound like?”

Josh was quiet for a moment. Sergeant Cook was confidently giving a fresh round of commands. At his direction the rhyhorn rider mounted up – another Ranger gave each of the prisoners a drink. Josh thought about the way his older self had arrested the machete-wielding man with perfect sangfroid. It rather strongly reminded him of Lorelei's battle composure. Divination is fine, but how am I supposed to know what to do to get there?

“This place is a compass, not a map,” Other-Josh said. “What you do with this knowledge is your business. And in any case, didn't you start this journey to find out what you want to do with your life? Come. Try this door.”

The next door was another third of the way round the hall. Josh shrugged, and pulled it open. This one opened onto a bright forest clearing. It reminded him of the Heartwoods – at the far side there was an immense oak, the finest Quercus robur that Josh had ever seen. A wedding was taking place beneath it, rows of folding chairs occupied by guests before it, portable hokora for the spiritual guests on either side of the tree. Josh knew enough by now to look for his older self, scanning though the guests.

But he wasn't seated with the guests – his older self was standing in front of the tree, shifting nervously from foot-to-foot. He was dressed fairly simply in shades of dark brown and green, with a circlet of oak leaves on his head in what must be a reluctant acknowledgement of the forest spirits. Am I really going to start going grey that young? His future self didn't look much older than thirty, but already his hair was salted with grey.

A voice in the back of his mind kept prodding him to pay attention. He scanned the scene again. More than half of the guests on the left hand side had bright pink hair.

He looked round at Other-Josh in the hall behind him, who just shrugged cryptically. When he looked back, the scene had skipped. An older version of Eve stood with his older self by the tree, proud and beautiful in white silk, crowned with miniature white roses. As Josh watched, she leapt at his older self to kiss him, knocking his leafy circlet askew.

“What do you think?” Other-Josh asked.

“... I don't know,” Josh said.

“Liar. How do you expect to figure out what you want if you won't even be honest with yourself?”

Josh didn't look around. He was still watching the scene through the door, and thinking. Not content with just the one, the future Eve enthusiastically kissed his older self again just as he was trying to straighten his circlet.

That was a strange sight. Even in his quiet, private moments he wasn’t good at imagining himself kissing anyone, really … watching himself kissing Eve, in perfect detail, was … strange.

“If … if this was my fate, rather than my choice … I wouldn't be unhappy.”

“But do you want that future?”

“No. No, I meant what I said to her the other day, but … why did I dream about her?”

“Why did you enjoy it?”

“What?”

“Just indulge me. Think about it; why did you enjoy the dream?”

Josh took a deep breath. His thoughts went first to Ninetales, disguised as Eve in the Deepwoods. The memory still made him nervous. He'd never felt so out of his depth as he had then, and never so vulnerable. That ninetales had a predatory glint in her eyes that her illusion just couldn't conceal – somehow, it was worse than being confronted by an ursaring in the Heartwoods. The dream Eve though … the dream Eve was certainly assertive, but she felt safe. The dream Eve cared that he had his insecurities.

“I like Eve a lot,” he said eventually. “I like cooking for her. I like holding her. I like the way she squeezes me. I liked kissing her in the dream, but not because I want to kiss the real Eve. Er … does that even make sense?”

“Yes,” Other-Josh said. “Look, Eve likes you. You know damn well she likes your cooking. She often demands a hug from you before bed. Forget about Ninetales and forget about the dream. Neither of those things matter. What matters is how you know you feel about her.”

Josh looked back at the future. His older self had picked his new wife up. Rather incongruously, she was wearing white hiking boots.

“She does look beautiful in white,” Josh said admiringly.

“Yes she does,” Other-Josh agreed.

Well, it was nice to have seen this, Josh thought, closing the door carefully. In that moment, he realised that it was time he divorced the concept of a crush from liking Eve in a – what would be the word? - platonic way. Forget about Ninetales and forget about the dream. Josh still had no intention of thinking about the dream any further, much less telling Eve about it. Ninetales had, ironically, brought them closer together. Even so, Josh didn't feel comfortable thinking of her in a sexual way.

Eleven doors, eleven futures. “You know, I think I've seen enough,” Josh said slowly.

“Are you sure?” Other-Josh said. “There are five doors you haven't opened yet.”

“I have enough to go on … I'm not convinced that more omphaloskepsis would help. And I should be getting back.”

Other-Josh pointed towards one end of the hall, the direction Josh had originally entered in. There was a heavy black curtain hanging there. “That way will take you back out,” Other-Josh said. “Be seeing you.”

“Next time I look in the mirror,” Josh replied to his double.

*​

Josh pushed his way through the curtain. He found himself back in the atrium at the front of the main tent. The harlequins were gone, to Josh's lack of surprise. Somehow, he'd expected it. He sauntered back down the lane towards Hunter's Green, followed by a few errant butterflies, and only then noticed that he was still carrying a broken length of hazel. He tossed it into a hedge, and walked back through the village.

By the time he reached the campsite, the sun had set and twilight had fallen. Eve was sitting by the fire with a satisfied smile on her face.

“Someone's pleased with herself,” Josh drily remarked.

“You could say that,” Eve said contentedly. She looked so dippily content that he couldn't help but smile a little.

“I brought beer,” he said, tossing Eve a can. He snapped open one himself and dropped down next to her.

“So where have you been?” Eve asked.

“Off thinking,” Josh paused for a moment. “Eevee, do you think I'd make a good teacher?”

“I think you'd make a good Gym Leader,” Eve said casually.

“A Gym Leader?”

“You could take over the Florando Gym and specialise in Grass-types,” Eve caught sight of Josh's expression. “Oh. I'm sorry Josh, was that a serious question?”

“Yeah … I'm just thinking about the future.”

Eve took a contemplative draught of her beer. “I can actually see you as a Gym Leader, you know. They have to be teachers as well as trainers,” she added.

“They also have to be great trainers,” Josh countered out of habit.

“So? Who says you can't be,” Eve said. “Honestly, Josh, I don't think you have natural talent. What you are is stubborn and clever and that counts for more than just natural talent,” she paused for a breath and a cooling sip. “So what I'm saying is that I believe you are good enough if you want to be.”

Next Chapter: Violet City

Bonus Content
The latest edit of this chapter (Version 1.3) incorporates some material I wrote on a whim and decided to try and use here. Just for fun, what follows is the original:

Spoiler

Miss Witherspoon was not, on the whole, a severe woman, but she did have Standards. You didn't rise to be Headmistress of one of Ecruteak's most prestigious girl's schools without them. Queen's Academy Heartford had a reputation to maintain, and that meant Standards – excellent test scores, successful sports teams, and a student body with darn strong moral fibre. Miss Witherspoon never swore, not even inside her own head. She considered cursing to be a sign of linguistic slovenliness, and slovenliness was a sign of bad moral fibre. She also disapproved of dyed hair, altering the school uniform, and students hugging, all for pretty much the same reason. Woe betide any girl caught smoking on her campus.

A second year appeared from round the corner, panicked, and immediately scuttled back out of sight, trying to straighten her tie. Darn strong moral fibre, she thought, allowing herself a discreet smile of satisfaction.

On Friday afternoons she made a habit of randomly visiting the homerooms, to ensure Standards were being upheld. It was high time she paid a visit to the newest teacher on staff. Miss Witherspoon considered hiring him to be a risk, but Queen's Academy needed a new junior Kalosian teacher, and quickly. Unfortunately, young Cook had studied at Mulberry University, and been a journeyman trainer for a while after that … but then he had also come with a glowing reference from his teaching professor. Accordingly, she'd given him one of the more difficult third year classes, on the basis that he'd show his quality well before the end of the first term. Another headmistress might consider that over-harsh, but she had no time for mediocrity, not with student performance to maintain.

There wasn't a lot of noise emanating from Cook's homeroom, which wasn't a bad sign. Miss Witherspoon removed the smile from her face and opened the classroom door haughtily.

Every last girl was fast asleep.

Miss Witherspoon was momentarily struck speechless. The girls were all lying slumped on their desks, resting their heads on a pillow or a cushion. Some of them were snoring gently; the window blinds were drawn. Cook acknowledged her with a polite nod from behind his desk, where he was peacefully marking homework. Miss Witherspoon rallied. She was Headmistress, for heaven's sake. “Mr Cook, what are you doing?”

“Teaching.”

“Teaching,” Miss Witherspoon repeated. She studied Cook critically. He did look the part in his plain tie and waistcoat, slim, austere glasses and prematurely greying curls, which were among the reasons she'd overlooked his particular alma mater. There weren't many twenty four year-olds who looked distinguished enough to meet Queen's Academy Standards. She didn't approve of his designer stubble, though, however neat it may be, nor his accent. You couldn't mistake Cook as being from anywhere other than Mulberry Town – he sounded more like a coal miner than a teacher.

“Mr Cook -” she started, but then she spotted the stack of used paper plates. She pointed them out at arm's length.

“Explain.”

“The girls had half a sandwich each,” Mr Cook said, keeping his voice low. “Nice, fresh mackerel and salad.”

“Hwhat?”

“On brown bread.”

“And this is teaching,” Miss Witherspoon said coldly, belatedly realising that she, too, was keeping her voice down. Cook's calm demeanour was getting on her nerves, and she was beginning to wonder whether she should have held out for an Ecruteak teacher.

“Yes, ma'am. Excuse me for a moment.” None too quietly, he went to reopen the blinds, washing the classroom with the late September sunshine. The girls stirred with a chorus of mumbled complaints. One of them – Bridgit, wasn't it, Bridgit Mills – clamped her pillow over her head.

“Come on, rise an' shine, sleeping beauties,” Mr Cook cajoled.

“Oh, Sir, why did you wake us so soo-oon,” someone karped.

“Quiet your fizzog, Tonia, you're not missing English,” Mr Cook said. “Ok, girls, you've got time yet for coffee or cola, but don't overdo it! Why don't we overdo it?”

There was a scatter of grumbles. Miss Witherspoon gave her employee a pointed look.

“I'm sorry, was that a sentence? Répétez votre réponse, s'il vous plaît!”

“It's 'cause caffeine dun't reelly give you energy, sir.”

Mr Cook ignored Miss Witherspoon's very visible wince at the girl's pronunciation. “Thank you, Richenda. Now I've got to have a word with Miss Witherspoon.”

Miss Witherspoon snapped the door shut behind them, waiting till the class started to chatter before continuing. Cook looked altogether too calm about this for her liking.

“Mister Cook,” she started, and it was a full 'Mister'. “These girls have grades to maintain. Friday Homeroom is intended to support them in this endeavour. And yet instead of finding a room full of students hard at work, I find them sleeping. And you call this teaching.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Explain.”

“I'm teaching them to look after themselves.”

“Home Economics -”

“Teaches them to cook and clean,” Mr Cook broke in. “Entirely adequately, I might add. I'm teaching them well-being.” He paused for a moment to think. He could see a slim window of opportunity here.

“These girls don't lack for motivation,” he said mollifyingly. “What they lack is perspective. They treat the trimesterly assessments with as much gravity as the finals. Danielle seems to think that she'll be doomed to poverty if she gets anything less than a B, and I'm quite sure she's not the only one. And so that means studying till two in the morning, most days, chaining energy drinks and never properly winding down.”

“And so you want to teach off-syllabus.”

“I want to teach them healthy ways to deal with the pressure before they turn to unhealthy methods.”

“I'm sure I don't know what you mean,” Miss Witherspoon said unconvincingly.

Yes you do, Mr Cook thought. He gave her as much of a disbelieving look as he dared.

“And what about maintaining your student's grades?” Miss Witherspoon persisted.

“Who functions properly on consistently short sleep, ma'am?” Mr Cook said. “Besides, I chose mackerel for a reason. Ma'am, omega-3 fatty acids have been shown to improve cognition and stave off anxiety disorders.” He quietly neglected to mention that many of the studies showing this were on the woolly side.

“Yes, well … you will shave your beard, Mr Cook! It does not Do for a male teacher to appear rakish in front of the students!”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said obediently, not fully understanding what that meant.

“You are a teacher, not a disc-jockey!”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“See that you do,” Miss Witherspoon warned. She swept off in a pedagogical wrath. It was overdramatic, but he refrained from sniggering at her. Mr Cook actually respected Miss Witherspoon. It was because of her that Heartford's scholarship program was as good as it was, and she'd be horrified at the idea of a student failing because they weren't being given enough attention. And, well, she'd also given a Mulberry Town lad a chance to teach at a Queen's Academy, when certainly no other headmistress would have.

The problem was, because she thought that class didn't matter, she also thought that only the kid's results did. That, and a tendency to believe that the girls wouldn't fall pregnant if only their uniforms were smart enough. 'Darn strong moral fibre!'

He went back into his homeroom, ostensibly to retrieve some papers ahead of the next lesson, and perched on the edge of the desk, taking mental notes of his student's demeanour as he did so. Danielle was already simultaneously sucking down coffee and fiddling with her English notes. She really needed more than a weekly nap, but … he knew there was only so much a homeroom teacher could do. Nevertheless, he felt better knowing his class at least had some decent food inside them. With any luck they'd pick up some healthy eating habits instead of trying to live off junk food and Black Tauros. Or nothing at all, he thought darkly.

A couple of the more conscientious girls dipped a bow to him (“Thank you for the use of the kettle, sir!”), piping hot mugs in their hands. Isabelle's had a pink bunny on it. Bowing! To a teacher! he thought sourly. He would try and put a stop to that in his classes, but well, pick your battles.

 

[Beth Pavell]

Responses:

Spoiler

@Flaze: I'd have to really screw up the timeline in order to post a true Christmas chapter! This dratted chapter has proven more troublesome than I expected. I think in future chapters I'll be vindicated in my decision not to move it elsewhere. I considered shifting some of the events on six or seven chapters down the line, but in the context of the overall story, it needs to be here.

@Sike Saner: Cats have personality alright, which is why I delight in depicting them as the sly, selfish little savages they are. One of these days I'm really going to annoy a cat lover. I love weirdness and dream-sequences, but they have to be done sparingly and avoid trying to be clever for the sake of clever. Inspiration for this partly came from A Clash of Kings, as it happens, though with less malice and less symbolism.

@diamondpearl876: sigh Well, I made those edits in an attempt to get the balance right. In hindsight it was a bit naïve of me to think that the wedding vision wouldn't thoroughly overshadow the rest. I did rather enjoy thinking that up – it suddenly occurred to me one day that neither Josh nor Eve would have a pseudo-Christian church wedding, so I had to think of what it would look like instead. Eve in her wedding dress is my favourite bit - “proud and beautiful in white silk” definitely ranks as my favourite image of the chapter

Oh, and in answer to your first comment, years of GMing pen-and-paper RPGs has left me very accustomed to coming up with world-building details quickly.

@Moonlight Dragonbloom: Thank you for commenting! I can't help but layer on more details than is strictly necessary. I shan't claim that it's anything so poncy as “finding the beauty in everything”, so much as finding something interesting in everything. As to Josh and Eve's relationship, well, I remain steadfastly tight-lipped on that. It may yet surprise you though

@Airt: I hadn't intended nature to be a theme in this chapter, funnily enough, but now I think about it, it kind of is. This is a chapter that would be much easier to get away with visually, I reckon, but there it is.

Chapter Seventeen – Violet City (Version 1.0)

Joshua​

Eve was in a mood.

“Prince of sodding Tricks indeed!”

“Will you give it a rest?”

“You pushed me in!”

“It's the Trick House! You're supposed to play tricks! Besides, you still took second place, didn't you?”

Eve pulled a face at him. Earlier that day they'd come across the Trick House. The Trick House appeared every year on tour from Hoenn, though no-one ever really knew where it would appear. This year the House featured a sailing segment at the end of the course – the King of Tricks had howled with delight when Josh sabotaged the other boats and pushed Eve into the lake halfway across.

“Traitor,” Eve said accusingly. Josh wished the bus would turn up. Eve had been calling him things like that for the past twenty minutes.

“Eve, we couldn't both win,” he said wearily. “And that's 'Traitor, Your Highness', thank you.”

“Since when are you a fan of airs and titles?”

“Hey, hey! I earned this crown!”

Eve snatched at the absurd plastic crown the King of Tricks had given him; Josh swatted her away with difficulty. They were still squabbling half-heartedly when the bus to Violet City arrived.

*​

Violet Castle looked down on the city from the summit of a steep hill. The city spread south and west along the ancient Ecruteak road like a broad river of slate-tiled roofs. Along the streets, the lampposts were lighting up with a soft yellow glow. The Industrial Revolution had passed the town by, as had the Commercial Revolution after it. People came for the nineteenth-century architecture in the uncluttered city centre, for the Violet City Gym, to see Sprout Tower and Violet Castle. Violet City was very much a tourist town.

It was another couple of hours before the bus pulled into the terminus next to the Magnet Train Station. Josh could tell that Eve didn't really want to stay at the Pokémon Centre. Instead they headed round to the Silver Hind inn on the south side of Castle Hill, away from the noise and bustle of the city centre. The inn itself was an old building, renovated and modernised. It was relatively inexpensive, but Josh convinced the manager to cut a slice off the cost of the room anyway – she, in turn, appeared to be determined to fill the room rather than lose any business to her rivals.

After dinner, Josh stepped out to the inn's hot spring to unwind. The spring was an elegant rectangle overhung with cheri trees, their boughs hung with coppery leaves and ivory white flowers. He gingerly waded into the steaming waters, settling down at the far end, where the occasional pale petal fluttered down from the foliage. He took a long, slow breath, savouring the quiet and the heat drawing the tension from his body.

His thoughts idly turned to the imminent Gym battle. The Violet City Gym was a Flying-type Gym, and that posed an awkward problem. In theory Screwball should be able to dominate the Gym, but Josh had a deep suspicion that the Leader would have a counter-strategy for Electric-types … and he wasn't convinced that Fionn was ready for a Gym battle either.

“See Case, I told you there'd be no-one around,” a boisterous voice drawled. Josh's head snapped up. Oh no. I recognise that voice.

Tyler Bradshaw sauntered out into the garden, smiling like a meowth in an unguarded dairy and – oh bloody hellfire! - not using his modesty towel.

Tyler noticed Josh sitting in the hot spring. “Hey, I know you!” he said. “Casey, check it out! I crushed this guy a couple of weeks back!”

A girl appeared from somewhere behind Tyler, haphazardly wrapped in a towel. Her body appeared to be built out of gentle curves - something that was all too apparent through the thin towel – but with unstyled black hair and bored, half-lidded eyes.

“Hey, hey!” Josh objected, both annoyed and embarrassed. “Single gender here, push off!”

An expression of indignant disdain creased Casey's exquisite face. She shrugged lazily at Tyler and headed back inside.

“Quite the buzzkill, ain't ya,” Tyler said, striding out into the spring. “So trainer, you got any better yet?”

“We've got better,” Josh said shortly, trying not to pay him much attention. He was beginning to wish he wasn't so naturally observant.

“Yep, I got three Badges now,” Tyler said, stretching methodically. “How 'bout you, trainer, you manage to win a Badge yet?”

“Bradshaw, either sit down or use your damn towel! I didn't travel this far to look at another man's gizmo!”

Tyler just laughed and spread his arms. “Hot is hot, trainer! You don't have to be queer to appreciate it,” He threw himself down in a corner of the spring. “Speaking of which, you shouldn't'a got rid of Casey. She has great C's.”

“I'm sure she has,” Josh said dismissively.

Tyler was quiet for a moment. Josh closed his eyes and tried to let his thoughts wander. How would Lorelei deal with an awkward type match-up?

“So how much better have you got?” Tyler said, abruptly derailing his train of thought.

Josh sighed, heavily. So much for relaxation. “Battle me and find out.”

“You saying you want a rematch, trainer?” Tyler said, grinning at him. “After what happened last time?”

“Take it or leave it, Bradshaw. I've got plenty of things I could be doing.”

“Alright, grommet, if you want to be blown out that bad,” he laughed. “On one condition. It's gotta be a half-battle.”

Josh paused for the briefest of moments. Three-on-three … Fionn does need the practice. “Fine.”

“Well, alright then,” Tyler said carelessly. “Tomorrow morning, at the Battle Club.”

Josh drummed his fingers restlessly on the tiles. He decided to give up on the hot spring; the moment had been ruined, he wasn't going to be able to relax now. He retrieved his towel from the tiles and started to head back inside.

“Going already?” Tyler said.

“I've got work to do,” Josh said shortly, trying to walk slantways, and wishing the towel was bigger.

“Hey trainer!” Tyler called after him. “You're a five outta ten back there, max. You should tone up those cheeks.”

Damn this small towel.

*​

“Well! It's not been a good week for the PM.” There was a peal of laughter from the studio audience. Josh was watching the TV, at least in theory. This evening he just wasn't in the mood. Eve was dragging a brush through her hair on the couch next to him.

“... that painfully choreographed attempt to eat a sausage roll like an Ordinary Fellow -”

Theirs was a double room; a sleeping alcove at either side, a small living area in between. Josh pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“What's up?” Eve asked. “This show had you in stitches last week.”

“I guess it's been a long day.”

“Maybe you should have spent more time at the spring – ow!” Eve said, tugging at a knot. “You're supposed to come back de-stressed.”

“Couldn't relax. Bradshaw saw to that,” he grumbled.

“Ow. Who's Bradshaw?”

“Oh, I didn't tell you, did I?” Josh said. “Bradshaw's this guy I battled on Route 33, the same morning we met in Azalea Town, as it happens. To sum it up, he was cocky – well, arrogant, really. A Dewford Gym student.”

“Oh, that type – ow! Damnit!” Eve said.

“Eevee, let me help. You're going to rip your hair out that way,” he said mildly. “I'll be gentle, trust me.”

Eve protested vaguely, but handed over the hairbrush anyway. Patiently teasing the tangles out of Eve's hair was oddly relaxing, sanding off the edge of his bad mood. He told her about the battle, and Tyler's ungracious taunting afterwards.

“... so out he strolls, the salt-stained braggart, no towel, and proud of it. Turns out he remembers me and the battle both,” he sighed. “Somehow I ended up challenging him to a rematch.”

“Aww. Someone's finally getting competitive,” Eve teased.

“I'd like to beat him. You know he actually rated my ass when I left the spring? Hey trainer, five outta ten!” he said, affecting Tyler's smug drawl. “I mean who does that at a hot spring – can you believe it?”

“Don't know. Strip your 'jamas off and I'll give you a second opinion.”

“Eve!” Josh complained.

“Oh alright,” Eve said. “I agree, it was a barbarous way to behave. Listen, why don't you borrow my Pokédex? Another string to your bow, huh?

“No … no, I want to win with my own skills and tools. But thank you.”

“I understand,” Eve said serenely.

Josh carried on running the brush through Eve's hair. After a while she closed her eyes, and he wondered if she was falling asleep.

“Josh, um …” Eve began, “I've got a favour to ask.”

Oh no. “You're not getting a back rub as well,” he joked.

Eve smiled weakly at him. “Listen, um … the Tigerlily Tourney's going to be held in Goldenrod City soon, and I want to compete in it.”

“Well, sure, we can go to Goldenrod City next if you like,” Josh said. “That's hardly a favour, though.”

Eve went quiet again, either thinking or drowsy. “It's a women's tournament,” she said. “The most prestigious women's tournament there is, really. No Joy has ever won it. I want to be the first.”

“Then I'll support you to the end, bud.”

“The problem is, after the heats the tourney is a Doubles tournament.”

It steadily dawned on Josh that Eve was edging her way to asking her favour. “Eve … what are you suggesting?” Josh said carefully.

“Just hear me out,” Eve said quickly. “We know each other's battle style, we get on well enough to act as a team … I don't have enough time to find and train with a new partner. I can't do it without you.”

“Eevee …” Josh began in disbelief. He wouldn't have thought she was at all serious, were it not for her initial hesitancy.

Eve looked at him with tired blue eyes. “I know it's petty, but I really want to at least try and win,” she said earnestly. “I want to win for the glory of it, to bring honour to the Joys for something not to do with the professions. And my mother would have to acknowledge it.”

Josh's heart sank a little. He stroked her hair absently, forgetting the brush for a moment. Disappointing Eve was the last thing he wanted to do – but there were so many ways this madcap idea could go very badly wrong.

“Eevee, I'm sorry, I can't,” he said reluctantly. “I wouldn't dare. Eve, think about it. You're asking me to convincingly pass as a girl.”

“Oh,” Eve said, crestfallen. Crestfallen, but with a kind of stoic resignation, “I knew it was a big ask.” She gave him another tired smile.

There was a comfortable silence. “Do you want to finish your hair yourself?” Josh asked.

“Mm-mn,” Eve replied.

Josh gave her a brief smile of his own. They didn't say anything for a while. They didn't need to.

*​

The Battle Club field was an indoor battlefield. Josh stepped into the trainer's box, looking grimly up at the assembled spectators watching from the balconies - teenage trainers of varying ages for the most part. Casey was there, leaning languidly on the rail. Eve was off battling on another field, though she had offered to come and be his support.

He looked askance at the TV camera suspended from a web of four wires above the battlefield. As he watched it, it swivelled round and focussed on his expression. He supposed, reluctantly, that it was something he was just going to have to get used to. Pokémon battles were regularly televised, after all, from the Gyms as well as the Battle Clubs.

Focus. Indomitable as a glacier. He made himself take deep, regular breaths, tuning out the crowd and clearing his mind.

“Spectators! Trainers! Your attention please!” the club referee shouted, having taken his place. “This Club Battle between Tyler Bradshaw of Dewford Island and Joshua Cook of Mulberry Town is about to begin! Each trainer will use three pokémon and both may substitute freely!”

“You can still back out, trainer,” Tyler said, grinning. Josh folded his arms and ignored him.

“Begin!”

“I know you're ready for this,” Josh murmured. “Fionn! Battle's on!”

“Alright, Meditite!”

An unfamiliar blue-and-white pokémon materialised on the field, no more than a couple of feet high, with a curious onion-shaped head. It sat quietly in a lotus position, its large eyes closed. Hmm. Probably safe to assume its a Fighting-type. Josh glanced at Fionn fidgeting in the air. Better keep her occupied.

“Will o' Wisp,” he ordered.

Pale bluish flames appeared in the air in front of Fionn, shining faintly as if they weren't entirely real. She sent them whizzing towards Meditite, crackling eerily as they went.

“Detect,” Tyler called. At the very last minute Meditite dodged the barrage of wisps, leaping high over a couple and sidestepping perfectly around the others. It lifted its skinny arm, eyes shining blue, and made a sharp shoving gesture. Fionn squealed in alarm as the Confusion attack flung her backwards. She instinctively faded from sight.

So, it's a Psychic-type as well? Thank you. “Ominous Wind, Fionn dear. Whenever you like.”

“Wait for it, Med. Patience, dude,” Tyler said. Fionn's disembodied laughter echoed through the hall. Seconds ticked past. A shadow of doubt crossed Tyler's face – Josh suppressed a smile. Can't Detect an attack you can't see coming.

Fionn reappeared in front of Meditite, took a quick breath, and rooted it to the spot with her Ominous Wind. Meditite let out a strangled cry and shuddered in distress. Pleased with herself, Fionn giggled happily.

Tyler was less amused. “Meditite, Psycho Cut,” he shouted, pointing dramatically. With one fluid movement Meditite swept its palm down in a chopping motion. A purple crescent formed in its wake, slicing through the air, slashing into Fionn with such force that her form momentarily dissolved into a dark bluish haze. She didn't even have time to shriek before she fainted dead away.

What on earth just happened?

“Misdreavus is unable to battle,” the referee called over a scatter of cheers from the spectators. “Meditite wins!”

The shock must have shown on Josh's face. “Two words, trainer: Pure Power,” Tyler laughed.

Damn, damn, damn! Flighty though she was, Fionn's tricks could have caused Tyler any number of problems. With a little more time she could have set up a Future Sight and brought Meditite down with Destiny Bond … damn.

“Alright,” he said levelly. “Screwball, take over!”

The TV camera zoomed in on Screwball. Screwball stared back just as mechanically.

“A Steel-type? Bummer,” Tyler said, shaking his head. “Ok, Med -”

“Metal Sound,” Josh interrupted. Screwball emitted an awful screech, like a steel comb being dragged across rusty iron. Meditite yelled and covered its ears, the watching trainers groaning in sympathy.

“Oh, man … bring that kook down!”

Meditite made a grabbing gesture with both hands, its eyes shining blue again. It made a whirling motion, psychically wrenching Screwball towards itself. Up came its palm, as if commanding a halt. Screwball made contact with a soft thud. For a moment, nothing happened.

“Mag?” Screwball buzzed uncertainly.

“Thundersh -” Josh started.

"Force Palm!"

There was a dazzling blast of greenish light. The dark silhouette of Screwball spun drunkenly, wailing in distress. Josh hurriedly shielded his eyes against the glare.

“Aargh! Charge Beam!” he roared.

There was a blaze of yellow light, the crackling fizz of an Electric attack followed by a dull boom. Black smoke billowed up.

“Whoa!” Tyler exclaimed, indistinct beyond the smoke as it cleared. Meditite was lying in the centre of a scorch mark.

“Meditite is unable to battle! Magnemite wins!”

Josh let out a sigh of relief. Pull yourself together, man! With effort he forced himself to calm down and concentrate.

Tyler recalled his meditite. “You did great,” he told it. “Huh. This is better practice than last time. Well you won't beat this – Harley, you're up!”

Harley turned out to be a tough-looking sandshrew, leaner than usual for its species, with short, chisel-like claws. Its dull brown armour was covered in scratches and healed cracks. Strategy spun through Josh's mind. If sandshrew was Tyler's second choice then the third pokémon was probably machop, and either way Screwball would be at a type-disadvantage.

“Magnet Bomb,” he ordered cautiously. Screwball appeared to launch the screws on the front of his body - they flashed in the harsh halogen lights as they homed in on their target.

“Defence Curl!” Tyler called. His pokémon curled into a tight armoured ball just before the Magnet Bombs struck home, detonating with a blue flash. Harley didn't so much as flinch.

“Ride out the wave, babe,” Tyler said. “And roll on out!”

Uncurling briefly, Harley built up some speed with a few quick bounds before curling into a Rollout.

“Sonic Boom. Blast it away.”

The Sonic Boom crashed over Harley like a thunderclap. The TV camera above rattled in the passing shock wave, but the sandshrew kept on coming unhindered.

“Alright, Rock Smash!” Tyler yelled. Harley came to a sharp halt just under Screwball; it leapt straight up, swinging its chisel claws. There was a rending bang – Screwball screeched like stereo feedback – Harley landed and leaped again.

“Dodge it!” Josh yelled, too late. Harley hammered Screwball with a second Rock Smash, knocking it out of the air with a crash.

“Magnurrr …” it droned, struggling to rise off the ground. There was actually a puncture in its steel shell.

“No,” Josh said firmly. “Screwball, return.”

The referee nodded in agreement. “Magnemite is unable to battle. Sandshrew wins!” he called amid cheers and whoops from the spectators.

“- that guy's boned -”

“Tyler's, like, so cool!”

“Three Badges to one, no contest -”

Josh squeezed his fist tight. He was acutely aware that he was on the back foot with two pokémon down, and in fairly short order. Tyler had the momentum in this battle; only tenacity and wits would turn the tide now. “Your tenacity is all I'll need,” he told Bulbasaur through his Poké Ball. “It's just you and me, old friend. Battle's on!”

Bulbasaur sized up his opponent with a dour look. He didn't need to be told to be patient – he just sat back on his haunches and watched Harley carefully. Harley stared back with black eyes, poised on all fours like a coiled spring.

Neither trainer made a move. Tyler looked entirely relaxed, smiling up at Casey leaning on the balcony. Josh mentally went over everything he could remember about sandshrew during the lull. No rash moves. The camera above panned back and forth.

After what seemed like endless minutes it became apparent that Tyler was prepared to wait for as long as it took. Maybe I can trick him into making the wrong move.

“Growth,” he said. Tyler's attention snapped back to the battle, indecision hovering on his face. Got you. You have no choice but to try and stop me now.

“Oh, no you don't! Harley, cut down that Growth with Rollout!”

That sandshrew's quick, Josh thought, watching it streak across the field. “Vine Whip!”

Bulbasaur barked an affirmation and lashed down at the speeding sandshrew. In his haste he missed by inches – Harley slammed into him head-on and circled away.

[Ow! Damnit!] Bulbasaur growled.

“Concentrate, Bulbasaur! You can do it!”

Harley swept in from a different angle. Bulbasaur extended his vines, took aim, and attacked. The first strike glanced off Harley's armour – the blow set it teetering precariously – the second hit it with a strong backhand strike, throwing it out of its Rollout. Bulbasaur took the initiative and charged, but Harley recovered fast, brandishing its claws. Bulbasaur hurriedly pulled up short and backed off rather than get caught in a brawl.

“Switch out your pokémon, Tyler!” someone shouted.

Tyler laughed amiably. “No worries, girl! Harley doesn't wipe out easy. Show the good people your Sandstorm!”

“San'shrew!” Harley said, curling into a ball again. It spun rapidly on the spot. Sand boiled up from nowhere, lifting in the sudden wind and filling the battlefield with whirling, stinging particles. The thick brume of sand quickly obscured Bulbasaur from sight; Josh could hardly see Tyler on the other side of the battlefield.

The shadow of sandshrew suddenly appeared in the blowing sand. It lashed out at Bulbasaur and disappeared into the storm, the dull brown of its scales blending into the sand. Almost immediately it reappeared from a different angle, attacked, and faded away. Bulbasaur tried to chase it with his Vine Whips, but Harley was even quicker than before.

Sand Rush, Josh thought, watching Harley patiently strike and fade away. Its claws trailed the telltale green after-image of Fury Cutter. There must be a weakness somewhere. The strength of the Sandstorm was constant; it didn't gust and billow, but whirled constantly over the whole field.

Tyler wasn't watching the battle. He was complacently talking to the spectators, confident in his sandshrew's abilities. One of the watching girls threw a paper airplane down to him – the Sandstorm caught it and shredded it, the pieces circling the field several times before they were tossed aside.

Josh stared at them. Thank you.

“Release Sleep Powder, Bulbasaur. Make it a big one.”

Bulbasaur growled fiercely, as much to focus himself as in defiance. His Sleep Powder mushroomed into the air, where it was instantly seized by the storm. The glittering blue powder mingled with the sand, leaving Harley with nowhere to hide.

“No way!” Tyler yelled, seeing the strength of the Sandstorm slacken off. Harley reappeared in the weakening storm, swaying from its efforts to stay awake. “Come on, babe, stay with it!”

It was no use. Harley fell flat on its face, dead to the world. [Haha! Got you, you grubby devil!] Bulbasaur said, laughing his harsh, choppy laugh.

“Bulbasaur,” Josh warned. “Leech Seed!”

His pokémon dropped a couple of Leech Seeds onto Harley's unresisting back.

“Uh,” Tyler said vaguely, wrong-footed. The hall was filled with the clamour of the spectators. Some of them were cheering, others were shouting contradictory advice. Josh had Bulbasaur use Growth to keep him off-balance.

Harley stirred lethargically, to the shouted encouragement of its trainer. With effort, it got to its feet. The Leech Seeds disentangled themselves from it and returned to Bulbasaur. Harley stumbled and collapsed. There was a collective cry of dismay.

“Sandshrew is unable to battle! Bulbasaur wins!”

Josh allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Evidently, Tyler had learned craftiness at the Dewford Gym, damn him. Drifts of sand lay heaped on the field – Bulbasaur sat stock-still, mimicking his own composure. The hardest part of the battle was imminent, and they both knew it. Beneath all his chilly thoughts of strategy, Josh was glad that Bulbasaur was his last pokémon, for the last match.

“Alright …” Tyler said in a low voice, “you've had some fun, trainer, but you're not going to beat me! Let's go, Machop!”

The hollow bang of the opening Poké Ball rang clear across the field. Machop brandished its heavily-muscled arm at Bulbasaur, fingers curled into a tight fist.

“Focus Energy!” Tyler ordered. Gone was his laid-back demeanour.

“Growth!” Bulbasaur's bulb glowed with inner phosphorescence. The phosphor-glow burned bright and healthy, yellow firefly-motes swirled around his bulb.

“Bullet Punch!”

“Tackle!”

Darting in close, Machop sidestepped Bulbasaur's Tackle and rushed his flank, bringing its hand down in a Karate Chop. The attack missed Bulbasaur's neck, instead striking the thick bone of his forehead.

“Sleep Powder,” Josh said, pulling back the initiative.

“Get out of there, Machop!” Tyler yelled.

“Take Down!”

Bulbasaur charged through his own Sleep Powder and tackled Machop hard, sending it flying while it was still trying to escape from beneath the powder cloud. Sand sprayed in its wake; it rolled to one knee to dodge a Vine Whip. Bulbasaur was in no mood to give any time to recover.

“Get it together!” Tyler called, his fists raised and clenched.

“Ma!” Machop grunted. It sprang up to its feet, flanked Bulbasaur and threw a pair of Bullet Punches – one smacked into Bulbasaur's side, the other thumped into his bulb. The sound of the impacts was worryingly loud – Bulbasaur tried to spin to face his attacker, only to find that Machop had anticipated that and moved with him. Down swept its hand again, the Karate Chop slamming into his collar.

“Agh!” Despite himself, Josh couldn't help but let out a stifled cry. He was sure he'd heard something crack when that Karate Chop struck. That looked like a critical hit. If he'd learned anything at all from Eve, then that blow hurt Bulbasaur more than he was letting on with his grunt of pain. With Bulbasaur's triple Growth still in play there was still a chance to win … but the match was quickly turning bitter, and brutal.

Better finish it first, then. “Vine Whip. No respite. I know you can do this!”

[Can, will!] Bulbasaur bellowed. With a sudden fury he lashed his Whips down on Machop. Surprised by the sudden fury of his assault, Machop took several stinging blows before it could bring its arms up to block.

“Keep on blocking! You've done this before!”

Bulbasaur refused to ease the onslaught. His Whips snapped down fast and hard, too quickly for Machop to seize them. Its defence was incredible – despite the power in Bulbasaur's Vine Whip it was somehow managing to endure the attrition.

Josh was running out of options. Tyler wouldn't fall for another Sleep Powder ploy and Leech Seed wouldn't make enough of a difference at this point. He could see that Bulbasaur was trying to favour his right side, likely as a result of that critical hit. His right vine swung at Machop's upper body. It brought its forearm up to block – Bulbasaur suddenly changed direction and struck at its leg. Machop howled and dropped down on to one knee. Follow it up!

But trying to maintain that barrage of Vine Whips had taken its toll on Bulbasaur. Tired, he paused for breath, and Machop seized its chance.

“Sleep Powder!” Josh desperately ordered. Tired as he was, Bulbasaur only managed to release a vague mist of powder.

“Dual Chop! Come on, finish it!” Tyler yelled. Heedless of the Sleep Powder, Machop struck Bulbasaur across the jaw with the first blow, dropped down and chopped his legs from under him with a follow-up backhand. Bulbasaur landed heavily – Machop slipped aside, spun and hammered a powerful kick into his ribs. Bulbasaur tumbled a quarter of the way back across the field, carving a furrow through the dunes.

“Bulbasaur!” Josh cried out. Stay calm. Stay icy. Can I still win this? Should I still win this? Bulbasaur was outmatched by Machop. Josh wanted to beat Tyler, really wanted it, they'd come far and pulled it back during this battle but -

But it's my responsibility to think of my pokémon's health first. No matter what I want.

Bulbasaur slowly regained his feet, watched intently by the referee. [Sorry, Josh. My Sleep Powder wasn't strong enough.]

“No apologies,” Josh said, and made up his mind. He raised Bulbasaur's Poké Ball, “I know you did your best.”

[No!] Bulbasaur barked. [No! I can do this! I can still give you this victory.]

“You …” Josh said. His arms hung limp at his sides. He wants to give me a victory, he thought vaguely.

Pay attention, a thought came, unbidden. A green glow was building in Bulbasaur's bulb – not the soft phosphorescence of Growth but brighter, stronger … it shone through the velvety forest green of his bulb, flickering strangely, like sunlight seen though linden-leaves in high summer.

[Time to settle with you!] Bulbasaur growled at Machop. Machop gave him an incredulous look, and burst into derisive laughter. Bulbasaur's vines shot out – the laughter died in Machop's throat when Bulbasaur seized it around the torso. Machop's eyes narrowed. It grabbed hold of the vines and pulled, intending to haul Bulbasaur to the ground.

But this time Bulbasaur had the mastery. He hoisted the struggling machop into the air and held it there for a moment, looking grimly up at it. With a sudden blur of movement, he slammed Machop into the field. A great cloud of sand blasted up.

“No-oo!” Tyler yelled. The sand settled. The field beneath Machop had splintered under the force of the impact. Tyler looked at this pokémon in disbelief.

“Machop is unable to battle! The victory goes to Joshua Cook of Mulberry Town!” the referee announced.

“Goddamnit!”

But Josh wasn't listening, because Bulbasaur was glowing pure white. Transfixed by the beauty of the living light, in that moment nothing else mattered. Bulbasaur grew larger, his body growing into a mature form. Great frond-like leaves unfurled gently from his bulb, which elongated into an elegant flower. With a final burst of white sparks, the light cleared. Ivysaur stood blinking on the field. The four fronds of his new leaves were a handsome deep green, his scales as shiny and supple as they ever were. But his bulb had become a shapely golden yellow flower.

He evolved. Bright, glad joy flooded Josh's heart. He rushed to his pokémon and smiled, completely and sincerely, at him. Ivysaur had kept the starburst pattern on his brow.

[How do I look?] he said. His voice was deeper, too.

“How do you feel?” Josh countered mildly.

[I feel … I feel great. Really great.]

Remembering a promise he'd made in the Heartwoods, Josh threw his arms around Ivysaur. “I love you buddy.”

[What's got into you? You're not usually like this.]

“Yeah, well maybe I should be.”

[Yeah, well, lucky for you I love you too,] Ivysaur said. [I'm exhausted, Josh.]

Josh fumbled for his Poké Ball. “Return, buddy. Next stop for you is the Pokémon Centre.”

The recall beam whined, and Ivysaur de-materialised into a red blur. Only then did Josh realise that he'd won the battle.

“Good God, he actually managed it -”

“That's not fair! Tyler's got three Badges!”

“It was your dumb paper plane that gave him the Sleep Powder idea, idiot!”

I won because I paid attention. Somehow, next to Bulbasaur evolving, it didn't matter so much. Tyler had already disappeared – stormed off, for all Josh knew. The spectators were beginning to drift away in their twos and threes. The TV camera was watching him.

Josh stood up, and raised the Poké Ball in triumph.

Someone landed heavily on his back and threw their arms around his neck. “Guess who!”

“Eve!” Josh tried to snap. He grabbed hold of Eve's legs to stop her weight from pulling his head off. “Way to ruin my moment there.”

“No I didn't. Now you're on TV with a pretty girl on your back.”

“Someone thinks highly of herself.”

“You said it, buddy.”

Josh sniffed her arm. “You're sweaty.”

“Yeah,” Eve said matter-of-factly. She gave him a quick squeeze. “Well done, you! That was a great battle. You're like, so totally righteous.”

“Don't you start talking like that,” Josh said, though inside he was blushing with pride. “Are you planning on getting off me any time soon?”

“No. I like it here. Come on, let's go get crêpes to celebrate! Oh, wait wait wait, I almost forgot something. Hey fangirls!” she yelled up at the balcony. “Bradshaw looost, Bradshaw looost!”

Special Chapter: A Work of Craft