Aaron’s Pokemon

  - Artoria (Kirlia)

  - Jeanne (Flaaffy)

  - Durvasa (Mankey)

  - Jang-Jorim (Egg)

  - Magellan (Chikorita)

  Entree 5.6

  Aaron Fulan

  Route 116

  We made good time through Route 116, not that I expected any different. The routes near Rustboro were among the most frequently patrolled in the region because of Rustboro’s status as the first in the circuit. The most dangerous thing we could expect to see here was a flock of overeager taillow.

  Which meant it was also the perfect time to train on the move.

  Artoria had been taught Fire Punch from the reusable TM mom gave me. She had no intention of becoming a pugilist like Durvasa of course, but the act of igniting something with her aura alone was important if she ever wanted to learn Mystical Fire or Will-o-Wisp.

  Right now, she was skipping along with her spoon held out, a fireball dancing on the bowl. The challenge here was to treat the spoon as an extension of her own consciousness. She was to protect the fireball from going out even as she danced and practiced her katas by sheathing it in a layer of psychic energy.

  I smiled at her progress. Jeanne or Duravasa would occasionally toss a rock at her to distract her, but she was now mostly able to keep the fire going. The next step would be to teleport with it so she could prepare a fire sword before warping in to bonk some poor bastard.

  That was far in the future however. The fire itself was a bit of a breather, a side project to be practiced whenever she got tired of contemplating the nature of fairies.

  As promised, I had Jeanne working on turning her Electro Balls and Thunder Shocks into a proper Thunderbolt. She’d been ready for a while, if I was being honest. I’d been reading papers published from the Mauville Gym and the only thing Jeanne was lacking was that final push of intent, a commitment to violence.

  Electric type attacks, more than any other type, had a direct correlation with the amount of energy a pokemon could store effectively. Many young electric types simply weren’t able to hold a big enough charge to perform the stronger electric type moves. Jeanne, having been taught to constantly store up energy with every move she made, wouldn’t have that problem.

  I smiled as the scarf-like wool around her neck visibly lit up. Dancing sparks raced across her neck as she converted every last bit of static electricity to further fuel her attack. Then, when she was ready, she swiped her tail, launching a bolt of lightning into the air.

  It wouldn’t be long now. She was mostly figuring out how much of her internal reserves she should use with each Thunderbolt. Too much and she’d be too busy charging mid-fight to be consistent. Too little and it’d defeat the purpose of the move.

  Magellan plodded by my side. Though he was the newest member of my team, he stood head and shoulders taller than the rest of my pokemon. His head, without the leaf, came up to my navel, and that was only as a young chikorita.

  His prodigious size was enough that the nurses thought he might be an alpha pokemon, a rare phenomenon first recorded in the ancient annals of the Hisui Region. The jury was still out on that front. Size alone did not an alpha make, though it was admittedly the most easily recognizable characteristic.

  I couldn’t wait ‘til he evolved. How big would an alpha bayleef be? An alpha meganium? Those things were already six feet tall on average at the time of evolution, and so long as they had an abundance of sun and soil, never stopped growing throughout their long lives. Magellan might grow big enough to carry me and the rest of the team on his back.

  His natural photosynthetic properties helped greatly accelerate his recovery. He had no trouble keeping up as we walked the route. He still wasn’t allowed to join in on the physical exercise, but that was fine for now. Dedicating a week or two to focus on his regenerative abilities and accuracy with Razor Leaves seemed like a perfectly valid plan.

  When he wasn’t sulking over not being allowed to fight, my bloodthirsty dinosaur proved to be almost as curious as Durvasa, albeit in a different way. Where Durvasa was a budding scholar, Magellan was almost like a child or a curious kitten. The novelty of human civilization had yet to vanish with this one. His questing vines picked up damn near everything in my backpack.

  Once, he’d gotten his metaphorical hands on my spice collection, only to find many were quite unpleasant to his pokemon taste buds. He didn’t like the earthiness of cumin or the bite of peppercorns. Through a bit of trial and error, we found that he preferred floral or herby fragrances, like rosemary, with sweets coming in at a close second.

  X

  Magellan

  My trainer was… strange.

  I’d known that going in, of course. Humans didn’t typically beat up other humans with a stick, and never so viciously from what I’d been taught by She Who Blooms with the Dawn. Even the bravest humans knew to command and teach rather than do battle with their own hands and feet. Fighting was for pokemon; everyone knew that.

  Except, no one had told my trainer that. At first, I’d thought that he’d leapt to fight with his team in the forest because he saw no other option. I quickly came to realize that he was the one who taught the one called Artoria her swordsmanship.

  Perfect. That was exactly what I wanted in a trainer, someone who would not hesitate. He was a man who was willing to tie his fate to ours, to prove his mettle with deeds rather than words. From what I’d seen, he was a one of a kind, so very unlike his friends and peers.

  That said, I also had to acknowledge that such an atypical trainer also naturally inspired an atypical team. From a kirlia who insisted on beating her opponents with a shiny stick to a mankey who wanted to master the language of the humans, there wasn’t a single “normal” pokemon amongst my new comrades.

  It was the reading that caught my attention. Aaron had purchased a flat, mirror-like object that glowed with words for Durvasa. He called it an e-reader. Apparently, it could store vast quantities of books for later perusal, something my teammate made use of every chance he got.

  At the moment, he leaned into my side, muttering to himself about the nature of fire. We’d stopped for lunch halfway through the route. Apparently, this route led to a place called Rusturf Tunnel, a passage through the mountains that had been reopened recently after an accident involving a mighty dragon of darkness.

  “What is there to learn of fire?” I asked him curiously. How could humans write so much about such a simple subject? My herd had simply known it as the Thing that Destroys, a necessity for new life at times, but often an unwelcome one. “It is hot, burns through grass type energy, and is smothered by water and ground type energy.”

  “This is an instruction manual which contains the standard operating procedures as written by Rustboro’s firemen,” Durvasa explained. I didn’t know what humans heard when he spoke, but to me, he had an unexpectedly calm, soothing voice that was so unlike the screeching of his kin.

  “Firemen? Human herds have individuals who intentionally start fires?” Human cities were like mega-herds composed of many smaller herds. Individuals had many roles I’d never considered in the forest, but one that existed to create fire seemed counterproductive.

  “No, they do not start fires; they fight them. They are also called firefighters and work to prevent fires in their cities,” he explained patiently. “Humans are weaker, less durable, and less attuned with aura compared to pokemon, so they have found other ways to combat fires.”

  “Interesting. You think reading more about their methods will shed light on the nature of fire?”

  “Yes, and it has. To master something, you must conquer it. Firemen conquer fire so it stands to reason that they have the best understanding of fire.”

  I found it interesting that even his scholarly pursuits were defined in terms of struggle and conquest. It was a very mankey-ish mentality, but one I found appealing. “And what insights does that book contain?”

  “Humans have discovered the mechanics of fire. Fire requires three things to function: fuel, oxygen, and a catalyst. Fuel can be any substance which burns easily, which is why dry foliage often precedes wildfires in forests. Oxygen is a substance that is ever-present in the air. Fire breathes just as we do. This is why smothering fire, whether in rocks, earth, or water, is the easiest way to kill it. Lastly, fire requires a catalyst, a spark. This can originate from lightning in the wild, or from friction between certain objects.”

  I considered the budding scholar’s words. They were in line with my experiences, except in one case. “Fire type pokemon would disagree. They seem to require no fuel nor catalyst to generate fire. She Who Blooms with the Dawn once told me of a ghost who could start fires underwater.”

  “Yes, aura does change things somewhat,” Durvasa agreed. He raised his fist and ignited it. “Fire Punch. I am not in pain. My fur is not burning. It seems the fire in my hand does not consume fuel.”

  “So humans are wrong then. Why read a manual you know is untrue?”

  “I don’t think they’re wrong. Rather, I think their view of the world is incomplete.”

  “How so?”

  “What if oxygen is not the only substance which is invisible to our eyes here? Fuel is defined as anything which burns. Maintaining this flame consumes my stamina. I require more sustenance. Or perhaps, I have replaced the need for fuel or a catalyst with my own aura.”

  “How does this help you master your move?”

  “I imagine my aura striking against itself, much like Aaron strikes his flint each night. I imagine a shower of sparks that catches upon my fist. And when I punch, I imagine the wind that rushes by, allowing the fire to breathe and fueling the flame with oxygen.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Does that help?” I asked curiously. It sounded as though he’d broken down the move into multiple steps, though it wasn’t as if he’d gotten any stronger. It was a simple change in perspective, nothing more.

  “It does,” he said with clear satisfaction. “Knowledge is the beginning of wisdom. Wisdom is the exercise of good judgement. In other words, it is the art of using the resources available to me efficiently. I have found that by understanding the mechanics of fire, and how my aura might shape it, my Fire Punch has grown more efficient. I can keep my fist ignited for longer. I use less aura to accomplish more.”

  “Huh… Maybe I should do some reading myself… Human letters make my head spin though.”

  “It is worth learning. Humans communicate across vast distances and store their knowledge in ways anyone can access.”

  “It’s strange to think humans have figured out so much about the natural world, and from such an odd perspective.”

  “Pokemon think about fire, and the natural world, in terms of aura. Humans do not. Or rather, humans cannot,” Artoria said as she approached.

  Plates of food floated behind her. That always looked a little strange, her telekinesis, knowing that she could use it in combat, but refused to as part of a life-defining oath. She reminded me of the samurai of Johto.

  She Who Blooms with the Dawn once told me about her homeland. It was a place steeped in history, with ancient warriors who served their masters. She’d sounded wistful then, nostalgic. She’d not been one of “those who serve,” but she said they’d possessed a quiet dignity, much like Artoria herself.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “Everyone, everything, has aura.”

  “You have to remember that most humans are not sensitive to aura. Our lord and his family are anomalies. Even among humans who can sense aura, the Summers family, the lineage of his mother, is full of extraordinary talents. And so, humans have dedicated themselves to studying the material world to discover the natural laws in absence of aura. This is the discipline they call ‘science.’”

  “And have you learned more about your natural affinities through science?”

  She shook her head. “Some, but not as much as I would like. The human study of the mind is called psychology, but it has little application where telekinesis is concerned. That said, our lord has seen fit to teach me swordsmanship as practiced by humans. Jeanne herself now practices making music with her electricity using a technique humans discovered.”

  “I see… I think I now see why She Who Blooms with the Dawn said a trainer could be beneficial,” I muttered quietly. I took a lazy bite of my lunch. I wasn’t fully healed yet, but I’d had plenty to think about. If nothing else, I’d never been more efficient at drawing nourishment from the sun. “Where is Jeanne anyway?”

  Artoria let out a dainty snort. “She is slobbering over the egg. She seems to think the larvesta will recognize her scent when she hatches.”

  “And will it? How can you know that it will be female?”

  “I can feel how her mind develops, brother. The larvesta is female. I bet she will readily recognize my mental touch. Jeanne is in a losing battle.”

  “Right…”

  The two had a strange rivalry, something about how contests were too showy and knights were too stiff. Out of morbid curiosity, I once asked Artoria what a “knight” was exactly.

  She kept me up for hours espousing the code of chivalry and the various oaths taken by knight orders throughout Galar and Kalos in times of old.

  Never again. Some things were better left unmentioned in my new herd.

  X

  Aaron Fulan

  Not two days later, we neared the end of the route. There was a rest stop near the tunnel’s entrance, with a fair bit more ranger presence than I’d expected. There was also a bit of a line to enter Rusturf Tunnel.

  I found out that they’d established a checkpoint. Now, everyone who wanted to enter had to show proof of ID and confirm the pokemon they had on their person.

  “I don’t get it. What’s the point? It’s not like this is going to keep a random trainer from fucking up,” one boy complained loudly.

  “No one cares what you get or don’t get, kid,” a ranger replied gruffly. He looked tired, like he’d heard this all before. “Them’s the rules so show me your ID and pokemon or get out of line.”

  “You can’t keep us from crossing an established route. Just because some idiot let his zweilous evolve without the right precautions doesn’t mean we’re all going to start a riot in there.”

  “No one’s keeping you. The Rusturf Mountains are a sensitive area right now. We’re just future-proofing against any potential problems. For example, if you get lost and separated from your pokemon, we’ll know how many we ought to look for before we’re done,” another ranger said soothingly.

  I listened halfheartedly as they continued to argue. Eventually, the trainer was booted out of line and we got moving. It was a bit surprising that these measures were in place so long after the hydreigon incident, but I guessed it made sense.

  The trainer wasn’t entirely wrong though; there was nothing a checkpoint would do to keep a pokemon from evolving prematurely. And if anyone wanted to get into the mountains without ranger oversight, they’d likely go off-route, just as I had when I crossed south of Verdanturf.

  That said, I doubted that was the point. This was security theater, but intentionally so. Humans weren’t the only audience here; the wild pokemon probably wanted to know that something like that wasn’t likely to happen again.

  If a ranger captain promised them that the humans would take precautions, then maybe having ranger boots on the ground for a few months was just a way to reassure everyone that the area was being watched. And if any trainer happened to have a potentially problematic pokemon, they could be shadowed discreetly or the local factions could be warned ahead of time.

  The cave was honestly not worth all the hubbub outside. The Rusturf Mountains had a sprawling cave system much like the one under Oldale. And similarly, the areas accessible to regular trainers were carefully curated. They were the equivalent of manicured lawns compared to the caverns’ true depths.

  “So, ever been in the caves before?” a fellow trainer asked nervously. He glanced at the walls, the railing that closed off other paths, and the stalactites that hung from the ceiling.

  He was a tall, lanky boy with pale skin hidden behind a mountain of freckles. He had green eyes, messy, blonde hair, and a pair of aviator glasses that were clipped to the collar of his shirt. He wore a thick flight jacket with wool padding and the logo of a popular sportswear brand. He also had on a pair of jeans that were noticeably reinforced with leather around his inner thighs.

  It all looked a little ridiculous in my opinion. Nothing about what he wore was wrong per se, but he was so scrawny that he looked like he’d borrowed the clothes from his dad.

  “Once in Oldale,” I told him honestly. Having passed the checkpoint at the same time, it was natural for us to keep going together.

  The tunnel took a full day to cross and had two checkpoints inside. That way, the rangers could be reasonably sure which section of the caves a trainer was last in if they didn’t show up at a checkpoint.

  “O-Oh, that’s cool. I’m Matt, by the way, Matt Thornton.”

  “Aaron Fulan. You?”

  “Me?”

  “Caves. Have you ever been in any others?”

  “N-No. Are they all so cramped?”

  I looked around. “Can’t be sure, but I think Oldale had lower ceilings so I guess they’re sometimes worse? This is the high-traffic section of Rusturf, remember?”

  “Yeah… Lovely…”

  “Claustrophobic?”

  “A bit. I’m a flying type specialist, got sponsored by Fortree and everything.”

  “That explains the Top Gun look,” I said.

  “The what?”

  I gestured to his aviators and flight jacket. “Old show about pilots. You reminded me of the actors.”

  “Oh, cool. Yeah, flying’s great. Do you have any flying types?”

  “I don’t. These guys are all I’ve got,” I said, pointing to my team. Unlike me, Matt didn’t have a single pokemon out; the cave made them feel anxious apparently. My pokemon weren’t fans of being underground either, but they were at least more tolerant of it than bird pokemon. They preferred being a little claustrophobic to hiding out in their pokeballs.

  “You should think about getting a flying type for yourself, man. I mean, skarmory is the only one big enough to carry me comfortably so I had to get these pants padded, but it’s so worth it,” he said excitedly.

  I could imagine. Skarmory were notorious for having feathers as sharp as knives. In fact, ancient civilizations used discarded feathers for speartips and their longer flight feathers especially got fashioned into swords. Even now, with modern forging techniques, I doubted I could do much better than a skarmory feather katana.

  Riding one… Granted, the feathers on the back were laid flat, but still… I glanced at his crotch, which he apparently placed atop a literal bed of knives on the daily, and winced.

  “You’re a braver man than I, Matt Thornton,” I said solemnly. “Aren’t there saddles though?”

  “There are, but they can be heavy and uncomfortable. My skarmory is a bit young and doesn’t like them so this was the compromise.”

  “You do you, but as for me, I’ll keep my family jewels off the flying cheese grater, thanks.”

  “Haha, it’s really not that bad; you just need to learn to handle large birds of prey safely. That was a huge part of the training school I attended in Fortree.”

  “That definitely wasn’t part of the curriculum in Mossdeep. Makes sense though, what with Winona being Fortree’s gym leader.”

  “Yup. So you’re from Mossdeep? What was that like? Did you like, do palm readings in class?”

  “No, but we did try to bend spoons with our minds once, just to see if any of the children had the gift. I don’t think we really had anything unusual about our curriculum. I guess the principal placed an emphasis on physics and chemistry since the space center is so close by.”

  “That sounds kinda lame.”

  “Is it? Lots of people have to wash out as trainers before ever making it to the Ever Grande Conference,” I pointed out. “Having a stronger educational foundation to fall back on is probably a good thing.”

  “Dude, you sound like my mom. You gotta aim big, ya know? Aim for the sky!”

  “I guess I prefer a more grounded approach for most people.”

  “Terrible pun.”

  “You should hear my dad. Literal astronaut, with puns that are out of this world.”

  “You’re a horrible human being. Even your own pokemon are cringing away in shame.”

  I was about to retort when a shrill screeching filled the air. It wasn’t whismur, the exploud had taken their colonies away for the time so we actually hadn’t seen any of them. That only left one possible contender: zubat.

  Contrary to popular belief, the flying rodents weren’t quite as common as in the games, even if new trainers insisted they were. The misconception came about because they were easily agitated by bright light, like a trainer’s flashlight. And since they didn’t look like literal rocks, new trainers were more likely to notice them than the equally common geodude.

  “You want a crobat?” I asked Matt. “They’re very strong flying types.”

  “No way, bird pokemon only for me. I’m going to win the Ever Grande Conference with just birds,” he said. “How about you? You’re a generalist, right?”

  “I’m a specialist, too. I specialize in special cases.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Just an inside joke,” I said, waving him off with a smile.

  Author’s Note

  I don’t have much to say here. Durvasa contemplates fire. Jeanne makes music and slobbers over the egg. Magellan is recovering. Artoria is about to club a bitch.

  Animal Fact: The bearded vulture is the only animal we know of whose diet predominantly consists of bones. Not flesh near bones, actual bones.

  Its stomach acid is the strongest of any animal, a hundred times more acidic than a human’s. It is almost pure hydrochloric acid, and at a ridiculously high concentration. The pH level is less than one. Bones dissolve in just 24 hours.

  Further, bearded vultures will shit on their own legs. Paradoxically, this makes them one of the more sanitary birds. Yeah, you heard right: Their shit is so acidic that it counts as a disinfectant.

  Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: .