Chapter 1: Being a Pokémon Trainer Meant a Lot

[Gaxatwirl]

Chapter 1: Being a Pokémon Trainer Meant a lot​

When mythical creatures roam the world alongside your average magic caster, the terminology of 'animal' just didn't work.

First the distinction came in the form of the way we communicated. Old smart people from the past would say 'language is a superior form of communication, allowing us to be able to contribute to each others' cause with greater effect'. Then you question why wars happen.

The second distinction then came in how we simply looked. If we looked weird enough, like a green goblin or some variation of beastfolk (y'know, doggy people, felines, etc), you were considered an animal. That was an outrageous division that we fortunately moved on from.

Then came the third. The third distinction came from if you are able to shrink. Literally. For some reason, certain types of monsters have the innate ability to turn really really small. They just shrink. Like, hello? Bones?

Yes, I'm talking about Pokémon. A discovery a long time ago by some guy who I can't be bothered to remember the name of created a shrinking mechanism that 'activated a Pokémon's innate ability'. We know these as pokéballs.

With that, the distinction was clear. In this world, if you couldn't shrink, you were simply 'Humanoid'. Elf, Dwarf, Halfling, Lepricon… Your ability to cast magic, how tall you were and how pleasing or unpleasing to the eyes you were didn't matter as much. Don't get me wrong, if you are a goblin, you're gonna have a rough time.

Pokémon happen to battle with some variation of magic or, um, bug, so their attacks are called 'Moves'. It makes sense, because oddly enough, Pokémon are inherently magic. There's no difference between their body slams and thunder waves, magically speaking (except for strength and affect). We call someone punching somebody else in the face a 'Move', and an elf using a lightning bolt a 'Spell'.

I'm an elf, apparently. I got light-greyish skin, which isn't the weirdest the world has seen, but my ears aren't pointy. Just your round boring flaps. For my Pokémon journey, I got my black boots with soft grey wool poking out and a zip on the side. I'm adorned in my usual black dress, which should be dropping all the way to my knees, but I've grown out of it. I put on my black stockings for the colder days ahead.

I reach for my star hair clip when a little runt robs it from me. Hextor, a 14 year old dwarf in the orphanage who has an oddly light voice and a mole on each side above his eyes. He runs at an unreasonable speed, challenging dragon dancing Flygon to a race and threatening to win.

I don't give chase. It's annoying when my, frankly too long, blond hair smacks me in face, but fortunately, it's also a weapon. That's why I don't use any hair ties. But the clip. Its for my bangs. The ones that cover my left eye from doing her job. When Welios sees the clip, she'll snatch it from Hextor.

"Elcea, come quickly. The champion's speaking.", Fee calls out.

We have a small radio that plays the broadcast of Pokémon stuff. Usually. As Pokémon battles and Pokémon concerts are the main form of entertainment.

I come out of our bedroom and enter the living room, which also exists as every other room that should exist in a normal house. Our bedroom isn't playing that role anymore, since we moved all the blankets and pillows to sit comfortably and listen to the radio all day.

I sit down next to Fee on a thin pink pillow and grab my clip from Welios. Welios is like, the big sis. She's 2 years older than me, being 19, has a simple white sweater and long black pants. She knows how to cook better than anyone else, including the professor.

When the professor is too busy doing professor things, she has to be our guardian. Her mother used to be our caretaker, but she passed away not long ago. Her mother, being a Halfling, should've had at least another century and a half.

"Let's be quiet now.", Welios says, hushing the smaller kids and Fee. Despite all her hardships, she remains strong.

Then there's Fee. This nerd has equally nerdy blue bubbly glasses. His hair is all tucked under a grey beanie he refuses to remove, and no one here has succeeded in removing it. He also isn't around as often as the rest of us are.

He's currently wearing a puffer fish-like jersey and his blue satchel hangs by his side. He grins at the radio like a 5 year old when they're being praised by their father. I mean, he was that 5 year old, 10 years ago.

The announcer introduces the region's newest champion, who won the entire Pokémon tournament and proceeded to beat the elite 4 and previous champion, this year. At the age of 20. Dubbing our youngest champion yet. It was just 2 weeks ago that everything concluded, and we're close to the end of the year.

The champion, Xecial, speaks formally. Thanking his school for sponsoring his rise to the position and all the good heart-warming stuff the champion is meant to say.

After the formalities drop, Xecial says, "Now, let's get to the point." And I sense a strange presence coming from the radio. Malicious, almost. Or, intent? Either way, it was powerful, like someone was casting magic through the champion's voice.

My eyes happen to land on Fee, and his giddy fan boy energy fades into high alert. My instincts could always be wrong. As a professional at my life, I know that happens often. But Fee? When Fee says something is off, something is off.

"Let me first apologise for what I am about to do."

That can't be good.

"From this day forward…" The grinding of a chair being pushed back is shortly followed by what sounds like paper slamming onto a desk. The champion pauses for only a brief moment, but ages go by in my mind.

"The profession of Pokémon trainer is banned."

"WHAT?!"

The blankets fly into the air as the kids all deal with this confusion in their own ways. Welios is able to stop the orphanage from looking like it got raided by making everything float. She includes some kids in her spell casting, making Hextor, Hendrick and Oawam cool down in the air. With Fee's help, she is able to calm the children down.

The champion didn't stop there, though. To put things simply, everything about Pokémon was banned. Pokémon battles were the first to go. It's the whole essence of being a Pokémon trainer. Why the champion, who is the best Pokémon trainer, would make this decision, makes less than negative sense to me.

Pokémon breeding also got banned. Hardcore. Pokémon trainers being banned from breeding their Pokémon can make sense, but even the profession of Pokémon breeding got banned. The champion did elaborate that they had certain conditions that allowed some breeders to continue their work, but I don't know where food is supposed to come from. Guess we eating grass now.

The wildest one to me, however, is the fact that Pokémon concerts got banned. I don't see it. With Pokémon battling and breeding, there's a lot of room where something can go wrong. Over-breeding and inter-breeding would probably be a problem, and Pokémon battles put both the trainer and Pokémon at risk of getting seriously injured. Concerts are a different story. You dress up in a cute outfit with your equally cute rat or squirrel, then you sing, dance, or do a bit of both. Maybe some people dress up inapropriately?

Somehow, though, the champion would not stop to amaze, astound and dumbstruck everyone watching and/or listening.

"Thank you all for your patience and understanding. The Pokémon league will be working closer with the police force to ensure the safety of the citizens. That's all."

Patience and understanding?

Well, suddenly this maneuver makes more sense to me. Every year, from start to end, the Pokémon Gym challenge is held for all licensed Pokémon Trainers. You gain the ability to participate in the gym challenge if you are sponsored by a professor, school or staff within any of the 5 sectors making up the 'Union', the governing system.

The Pokémon champion becomes head of 2 of these 5 sectors, though I don't know politics. What I do know is that the Pokémon champion gains power. So, simply put, if no one can challenge the Pokémon champion to the title anymore, no one can steal that powerful position.

I have one problem with that thought. That being that every trainer is sponsored by someone or a whole company. It sounds like our champion went to a school, so they got sponsored there. Why would the school endorse any of this? Unless they are gaining power as well? What about the elite 4, or the gym leaders? Did they not have a say, or did they all agree?

"Elcea?", Fee calls, tugging at my dress. His voice tunes shyly, and he takes a big gulp of air, keeping his head to the ground. Fee is sensitive to the atmosphere of a room. It happens often when he's around. If we're arguing about stupid things, pretending to be in a Pokémon battle and other high tense situations, Fee gets emotionally tired.

"How do you feel?" I gently lead us outside.

He pouts. "Well, that sucked."

Not an answer, but that carries the point. That did suck. We were planning on becoming Pokémon trainers next year. A 16 year old can join the gym challenge (which also technically means a 16 year old can become the Pokémon champion). I would be 18, which is a bit late, but I made a promise.

"We should ask the Professor what he knows.", I suggest. One of the Pokémon Professors of the region happens to abide at this town. Quartz town. A green pasture with a couple of old-age homes. Even though it's a decently sized town, its rather boring. But, just before the Pokémon gym challenge begins, a couple of trainers come by from the south or north, hoping to get a 'starter Pokémon' and sponsorship.

"Yeah, you're right." Fee grabs my hand and charges down the road. We see old man Rabs the Harengon with his Bunnelby digging up the soil and our Orcish gardener Katsno planting oran berries. We breeze pass the blue roofed Pokémart and slow down as we pass the rows of Sudowoodo (each being high-fived by Fee) leading to the fencing of the Pokémon Research lab.

Then Fee's face turns pale. He takes a step back from the ajar wooden gate. The Professor does leave his gate open sometimes, accidentally. But the gate is opened like it was intended to be closed.

I grab my pokéball, and throw it low in the air, ready to catch it again. "It's fine." When the ball lands on my hand, I fling it as far as I can towards the lab. I push against the ground, running quickly and getting a spell ready for when I open the door.

But I'm not who opens the door.

"Yeetzel, tackle attack!"

I'm barely able to protect myself from the charging Buizel by casting Protect. Traditionally a Pokémon move protecting the user from all harm.

"Treat, pound 'em."

My Popplio, nicknamed Treat, emerges from the pokéball as it hits the ground, striking the Buizel on the head with both her flippers. I back away from the Buizel, looking up towards the green girl with wild blue hair.

She places a finger in front of her lips. "Quiet, the shows starting."