“Huh?”

            “Yeah, you heard me right, fella” the rather upset-faced man outside the hall sighed. “There won’t be another poetry contest for at least another hour. Somethin’s gone wrong and we’re tryin’ to figure out what it could have been.”

            “But what on earth could have possibly gone wrong in a poetry contest?” James spluttered in disbelief. He was kind of put off at hearing this due to the fact he had been looking forward to exhibiting his literary skills in front of equally cultured people.

            “Well you see…” the man continued, fiddling with the pin on his shirt that read ‘Ben’. “I don’t know how it happened but…all ‘a sudden the judges just fell asleep. And the contestants soon followed!”

James pulled a face, like he sincerely believed the guy was trying to stop him from showcasing his talent.

“I know it sounds crazy but I’m not kiddin’ ya” Ben persisted. “One moment they was wide awake, the next minute…shoomf! Snoring on the table like they hadn’t had a kip in weeks or something. It was real unnerving. We’ve sent security and special investigators in to see whether it was some sort of gas leak from the ventilation system.

 

So you’ll have to come back later, buddy. Sorry ‘bout that.”

 

With no other definite motive in his head, James grumpily took off in search of entertainment, and possibly a light snack while he was at it. The compendium certainly wasn’t short of either. A mixture of warm, tantalising and sickly smells of roasted Bullet Seeds in Combee honey and Swablu Cotton Candy wafted through the air as people wandered past, chattering excitedly and clutching various wares that they had bought or won during the morning while cheerful music echoed all about them.

It was truly magical, in a cacophonous, luminous sort of way. James had been totally bowled over by its childish attraction.

In fact a particular place had caught his eye. Somehow it stood out from amongst the others, with its wide glass frontage decorated with ivy and carefully painted images of various Pokémon. As James approached and gazed in through the glass the arrays of unusually shaped devices that resembled arcade game machines blinked their flashing panels back at him. Almost beckoning the man to enter.

James stepped into the sights of the electric doors, causing them to slide back obediently, then wandered through the open gap into the activity within. There were just as many people inside the building as outside, most of them leant over the unusual looking machines with expressions of equal concentration and anxiousness.

The other most noticeable aspect besides the noise of frantic whirring was the overwhelming aroma within the wide room. It wasn’t pungent or noxious but instead an amalgamation of fruits and smooth nectars. Peering into the conical barrel of one of the devices, James inhaled deeply and sighed with pleasure as the self same aroma entered his nostrils with increasing strength. It was certain that these machines had been used to mix the ingredients that had created such a delicious essence, and the thought of ingredients was starting to make James’ empty stomach gurgle somewhat.

 

“Hey there.”

 

Glancing up, James’ eyes met with the eyes of a teenage boy who had been watching him with some puzzlement. He looked about fourteen years old and was wearing a mint green jacket with white sleeves over a cream coloured top with grey trousers and an orange baseball cap on backwards from which a large tuft of his blue hair forced its way through.

“Are you using that Berry Blender or can I have a turn?” he asked, folding his arms.

“Huh?” James glanced up ponderously.

“The Berry Blender you had your face in a minute ago, dummy,” the boy groaned, rearranging his hair. “Are you using it or what?”

“Well I…”

“Listen” the boy continued through gritted teeth. “I’ve got some Pokeblocks to make and I haven’t got all day…

 

…now are you using this Berry Blender?”

 

James’ face lit up slightly. Berries! Of course, he knew that aroma was all too familiar. So these machines were used to puree the various produce from bushes and plants into Pokeblocks. It wasn't surprising he had taken some time to catch on - the design of this particular blender was far different from any he had ever seen before.

“Nah, it’s ok…I’ll hang around and see how you work it,” he replied eventually. The boy shrugged and nodded as he removed his rucksack and reached down into it.

“Fair enough. Just keep your fingers away from the edges; they can slice through steel once they get to top speed”

Gulping down his nervousness, James retracted both hands and placed them firmly behind his back. With a little chuckle of amusement the boy brought out two rounded objects, one red and one blue, and tossed them deftly into the conical drum of the machine before replacing the lid marked with a brightly coloured arrow.

“The name’s Cobi,” he stated, pushing a few buttons on the device’s keypad. “What’s yours?”

“It’s…” James began hesitantly, struggling to remember the name Denise had thrown at him. “It’s…Carl”

Cobi began to chuckle again as the blender rumbled into action.

“You seemed a bit unsure of that” he said. “Want another guess?”

James did not reply. Instead he leant forward carefully and scrutinized the contents as they span hypnotically under the semi-transparent bubble window in the lid. Once the blender had slowed a strange humming ensued and the conical drum filled with a yellowish spray. Seconds later Cobi pulled the lid off once more and reached in to collect the results of the machine’s work.

A batch of purplish cubes were all that remained. The trainer brought out a long tubular container with a Pokéball design upon it and slipped the cube into the top before returning it to his bag once more.

“I guess you haven’t done that sort of thing before then, hm?” he remarked upon seeing James’ rather astounded face.

“Uh…no, actually…” the man grinned sheepishly. “And I’d like to as well. It looks kind of…fun.”

Cobi smiled warmly.

“Well I guess it can’t hurt to give you a couple this once” he murmured, bringing out another two berries. James took the objects, removed the lid on the blender and dropped them carefully within the drum. Then, returning the lid to its rightful place, he tentatively pressed the buttons he’d seen Cobi use earlier to start the process.

“See” the boy smirked. “It’s not that hard, is it?”

Ignoring the patronism in the young trainer’s voice James simply waited for the blender to finish and when it had done so he prised open the lid for the final time to retrieve the contents.

“It’s Lite Blue Pokeblocks for you” Cobi nodded in acknowledgment as the man stared in wonder at the glazed chunk of fruit between his fingers. The neon light from above reflected irresistibly on its sugary coating, causing James’ mouth to open subconsciously and a small dribble of saliva to run down his chin.

“Now you do have a case for these, right?” Cobi asked, pausing only to pull a face at the sight of his companion’s expression.

“I don’t need one!” James exclaimed with childish joy. “I’m going to eat them now!”

“Wha…?” Before Cobi could realise the implications of this statement, the man had already lifted back his head and tossed the coated cubes straight down his throat.

“Mmmm…” he murmured.

 

“That was tasty.”

  

James swallowed nervously. All of a sudden he wasn’t feeling so good and the additional worry over his circumstances certainly wasn't helping to quell the nausea. This had never happened the last time he ate Pokeblocks. Cobi looked on in a mixture of horror and puzzlement as James bent forward; grasping his chest with one arm and clutching at the side of the Berry Blender with the other.

“Uh..a-are you ok?” the trainer asked tentatively, as James righted himself with a somewhat pained expression.

"Must have been some bad berries," came the reply. "That was one harsh stomach twinge. At least it's passed now - gut problems are the last thing I'd want during the poetry contest."

James left Cobi's side and headed toward the exit, arriving to discover a cluster of rather grumpy muttering figures gathered about the firmly shut electric doors.

“Dang thing’s gone kablooie again” a man in a dark coloured boiler suit and flat cap snorted in annoyance as he prodded the innards of an electrical terminal fixed to the wall. James felt himself drawn to enquiry.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’ know what’s wrong, otherwise I would’a fixed it by now!” the technician snapped.

“Maybe I can lend a hand” James suggested, reaching for the tool box.

“Heh heh” came the amused snigger. “An what was you thinkin’ of doin’? Paintin’ it back to life?”

“Not exactly” James shook his head as he leant forward to take a closer look at the terminal. There was an indescribable twinkle in his eye as he said this. “Ah, that looks like a simple circuitrian misroute; easily fixed with a few adjustments…”

The technician just stood there in awe as James took a screwdriver and attended to the terminal’s components. In a matter of moments the doors slid open and the people within the building had streamed out, each giving their own personal display of gratitude.

“You’re good” the technician murmured, scratching his head. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

James shrugged.

“The truth is, I didn’t learn it” he stated in slight puzzlement. “I just…knew…somehow.”

As James strode out of the door whistling to himself, Cobi looked on in alarm. It didn’t make any sense; one minute the man had been incapable of operating a Berry Blender or remembering his own name, the next he was reprogramming automatic doors without a second thought.

Then Cobi remembered. Lite Blue Pokeblocks increased a Pokémon's intelligence level. But how come the one James had swallowed had kicked his own smartness into overdrive?

                                                                                                                                          

 

***~~***~~***~~***~~***

 

“Mondo! It’s really you!”

 

Upon hearing this utterance the figure choked slightly. Without a warning he grasped Denise’s shoulders, pulling her close.

“Who told you that name?” he hissed.

“What do you mean?” Denise replied in lowered tones, temporarily forgetting that she had disguised her identity. “You told me it of course! Don’t you recognise me, Mondo?”

 Ponderously the man moved away and took another look. Then his face became gradually overcome with realisation and astonishment.

“Denise?”

She nodded.

“Yeah…but don’t say it so loud. I’m incognito”

“Same here” the figure grinned. “Not long after you guys left, Finlay suggested I alter my name to further erase my past connections with…you know…”

“Uh huh” Denise rolled her eyes. “How could I forget. So…what do you call yourself these days?”

“Tate.”

“That’s…an unusual name” Denise murmured, rather admiringly. “I like it.” 

“Speaking of ‘the guys’…” Mondo continued. “Where are they? Shouldn’t they be with you or…” His face fell rapidly as he said this. “…did you all split?”

“No! Not at all…” Denise replied hurriedly. “Far from it. We’re fine. Everything’s cool between the six of us”

Mondo faltered.

“Six? But I thought there was only five.”

“Errol found us again a little while back” Denise told him. “James really picked up when he returned. It was so nice to see some of his old personality again.”

There was a slight disbelief in Mondo’s voice as he replied.

“Yeah…I guess.”

“What do you mean?” Denise remarked confusedly. “What have you got against Errol anyway? What has he ever done to you?”

“It’s not that he’s done anything to me…” Mondo sighed, shuffling his feet along the grass with a miserable expression. “For some reason that guy is always giving me funny looks. Like he has a grudge against me or something.”

Denise clicked. Of course! Errol had always been the one to bear grudges…even as a Pokémon. And the rather patronising and degrading treatment Mondo unintentionally gave him when he was Meowth still burned in the back of his head. But Mondo still had no idea that Errol had once been a Pokémon. The only way to explain the situation would be to reveal the hidden secret.

 

Should she be the one to do that? Denise decided against the idea and tried another approach.

 

“It’s ok ‘Tate’” she told her friend. “It’s nothing personal. Errol’s just a complicated kind of guy with a lot on his mind, y’know?”

Mondo shrugged. He still didn’t get it but was prepared to drop the concept once more in aid of something a lot more refreshing.

“So” he began. “Where were you off to in such a hurry, Neesee?”

“Uh…Rita” Denise corrected anxiously. “Call me Rita. That’s my temporary pseudonym. I was off to take a look at all the wonderful technology on display down in the Intel Marquee.”

 “That’s a pretty neat coincidence,” Mondo smiled. “I was heading back there myself…I’d just bought some snacks for me and my two accomplices at the stand we have in the marquee. Care to join me for brunch?”

“Sounds like a fantastic idea,” Denise grinned happily. “And maybe while we’re there, you can show me the technological advancements you guys have been making.”

“Why not?” Mondo nodded as the pair of them wandered into the crowd. “Come to think of it there’s something being developed that I’m certain you’ll love.”

“Well…less talk, more move!” Denise joked. “Show me the science!”

 

***~~***~~***~~***~~***

                                                                                                                                          

            The bustle continued into mid-afternoon. Time, it seemed, had a fear of standing still. So did the people; they bustled and crowded about Errol and DittoCory like their lives depended on reaching the next attraction. And the attractions were even worse; each owner battling for control of the airwaves with their own particular raised slogan.

            “Roll up! Roll up! Try your hand at the shoot and loop!” one man was exclaiming.

            “Two hundred a throw, don’t be slow! Pick a number and away we go!” another cried at a slightly higher volume.

            “DEEP FRIED COMBUSKEN BURGERS! GET ‘EM WHILE THEY’RE SPICY!” someone else almost screamed, sending Errol into a shaky wobble across the grass path. Grumpily he managed to right himself before colliding with the passers-by.

            “Why dey hafta yell so loud?”

            <Beats me> Cory shrugged. Errol groaned as he rubbed at his temple.

            “By da time we finish I’ll have a headache da size of Mount Chimney!

 

            Can’t dey stop fer at least a few minutes?”

 

            It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in this sort of atmosphere before. Many a time he had passed through a brightly coloured festival and sampled the sights and sounds within. Errol wasn’t sure whether it was lack of sleep or nutrition on his part but for some reason things seemed to be playing at an unbearable volume.

            “Hey buddy”

            Looking round, Errol raised an eyebrow as he saw the young man with shaggy red hair tied into something resembling a ponytail, sitting behind a small, hurriedly erected table on which was placed three paper cups. The setup certainly didn’t look official; Errol got the feeling this figure had managed to evade security and exhibit his own attraction within.

            “Who are ya callin’ 'buddy', kid?” he muttered. Since coming clean, he had begun to feel a certain coldness toward any lawbreakers, no matter how small.

            “You seem the speedy type,” the man behind the table grinned. “Bet you could outmanoeuvre a stampeding Douumaped, eh?”

            Errol folded his arms as Cory looked on confusedly.

            “What are ya gettin’ at?” he inquired. At which point the man threw himself straight into his routine.

            “It’s simple,” he said, picking up each of the paper cups alternately. “All you gotta do is find the Pokéball. Easy as that. Choose the cup you think it’s under and if the Pokéball is there you win it, complete with whatever’s inside.

           

            Sound good to you, eh? Or are you afraid you’ll lose?”

 

            Errol was struggling to prevent himself from telling the man what he really thought of his exploitation of living creatures by using them as cheap prizes. But he couldn’t simply abandon the poor creature trapped within the device that was hidden under one of the paper cups. So he composed himself and continued the conversation.

            “Why should I be afraid?”

            “Basically because no one’s ever beaten me at this game” the man smirked darkly. “I am Scott ‘Rapidash’ Wilson. Fastest fingers this side of the Tatto ocean.”

            Errol rolled his eyes at this egotistical statement. And then he did a double take.

            “Scott Wilson, didja say?”

            “The one and only!” the guy replied, flashing his pearly white teeth at the visitors.

            “Do ya happen ta be any relation ta Caley Wilson?”

            Scott’s eyes widened slightly and he gave a small cough before furrowing his brow somewhat.

            “Yeah, I know that naive little twerp” he mumbled. “He’s my cousin. He thinks he knows it all, and everybody worships the ground he walks on.”

            “Dat is so untrue!” Errol snapped. “Caley ain’t no twoip. He’s one of da most modest trainers around!”

            He faltered upon seeing Scott’s disapproved expression.

            “Uh…so I’ve hoid.”

            “Well maybe you shouldn’t believe everything you hear, eh buddy?” Scott remarked, casually leaning upon the table. “So what about it? Think you can outclass my speed?”

            Errol’s eyes narrowed. Insulting his friends was bad enough but insulting his skills as well? That was the last straw.

            Dis guy seriously needs takin’ down a peg or two, he thought to himself. Cory nodded in agreement.

            “How much d’ya want?” he asked slowly. Scott’s face became mischievous at this point as be removed a blue Pokéball from his upper shirt pocket and span it playfully on the end of his finger.   

            “Five hundred PD's all I’m asking. Now that’s got to be a bargain for the Pokémon I’ve got.”

            “Fine,” Errol spat, slamming a note on the table. “I’ll pay ya lousy fee.”

            “Good man,” Scott smirked patronisingly, and after placing the device under one of the cups, he promptly began to move them upon the table. He hadn’t been lying about his swiftness, mind you. As Errol watched intently, the figure’s hands moved faster and faster across the surface until the objects became a blur. Then as Scott slowed his pace to a standstill he lifted his head to give his customer a rather vindictive look.

            “Go on” he murmured. “Which one is the Pokéball under?”

 

            “Dat one.”

 

            Errol had not even hesitated for a second and was now pointing firmly at the cup on the far right side of the table. Slightly taken aback by this, due to the fact he didn’t even know where the ball was, Scott cautiously lifted the appropriate receptacle and gave out a loud gasp. For there in plain sight of all who were watching sat the prize, glinting mockingly under the sunlight.

            “Huh-how did you do that?” Scott spluttered, as his hands began to shake. Errol grinned triumphantly.

            “Let’s jus’ say youse ain’t da speediest guy around, kid”

            Cory chuckled as Errol took the Pokéball from the table and slipped it into his jacket before turning to leave. But Scott still wasn’t convinced of Errol’s enhanced sight.

            “Yuh…yuh…YOU CHEATED!” he yelled across the crowd. Errol pretended not to hear him but a nearby security warden looked up in surprise and noticed the red-headed figure complete with his illegal activity set out before him. You see Scott, unlike Caley, wasn’t particularly smart. But he was smart enough to work out that a wide-shouldered man followed by a determined looking Manectric did not bode well for his health or finances.

            Swivelling himself around to take one last glance the corners of Errol’s eyes creased up in hilarity as he saw the conman making a pathetic attempt to escape, complete with his cumbersome equipment while the Manectric fired bolts of electricity at his backside. After all there were no fulfilling rewards for wrong deeds and the ones who became involved in such darkness were only punished due to their disregard for others.

            Just knowing that made Errol feel glad to be a good guy.

 

***~~***~~***~~***~~***

 

            With Adam ‘occupied’ and the others pursuing their own intentions, Caley decided to wander freely amongst the jollity and take the time to ease his aching mind. Somehow the consistent rabble of the people all around seemed less taxing than the collective emotions of his travelling companions and he was glad to be able to take a break from all the emotive pressure that managed to control him at times. Kota squealed excitedly at the coloured menagerie. It was the first time the Pokémon had ever seen such an event and, unexpectedly, he was enjoying it.

            What is that delicious smell? the psychic dragon inquired. Its trainer never flinched; by now he was used to having unusual telepathic voices from the outside communicate with him.

            It’s cinnamon donuts he replied in the same manner, after sniffing the air. Why, are you hungry, psybuddy?

            The Psybab nodded eagerly. Caley smiled at this and began to make his way through the crowd toward the stand. After paying for his purchase, the trainer handed Kota his share and walked onward.

            You know what? Caley thought, slightly miserably.

            What?

            This is how it would have ended up had we not been sucked into such turbulence. You and me…on a journey of discovery, none of this having to constantly watch our backs to make sure we don’t get captured. We could take our time…relax…be carefree…      

            Kota floated over to Caley’s shoulder and patted it comfortingly.

            Maybe if you thought about it a different way, the Psybab remarked. This happened for a reason. There’s something special about you, Caley. And I’m not just saying this because I’m your friend or because you have psychic abilities…I can sense something more than that. But it’s something I cannot explain.

            Well it would sure help if someone could explain, the trainer grumbled internally. I'd find things easier if I just knew why I was apparently so 'special'.

 

            “You wish to know the truth?”

 

            Caley turned. He was sure he had heard a determined, fearless voice echo from behind him. Swinging round, the trainer viewed the crowd intently to try and figure out where the sound had come from. It was a female voice, light but commandeering, that mingled with the peaceful ramblings inside Caley’s head. No one else seemed to be hearing her words; it was almost as if Caley was specifically being targeted.

            "Are there questions in your mind that need answering?" the woman's voice continued. "Deep questions that no one seems to be able to answer? The truth is written in the stone…all you need to do is uncover it.

            Come to the blue marquee in the south square in five minutes and you too can learn the mysteries of Tomary Tower's most sacred keepsake, The Tablet of Origi.”

            The last sentence shattered the ambiance. Psybab looked up and giggled as it pointed out the loudspeaker that was placed conveniently on a post some way above their heads. After a moment of thought Caley realised this was where the announcement had come from.

            “So much for ‘being targeted’” he grinned in a semi-embarrassment, then looked at the pastel blue sky for a moment. The Tablet of Origi sounded very intriguing. Maybe it would hold the answers to the questions he had been longing to figure out ever since Cew awakened his psychic Cho'moken.

  

***~~***~~***~~***~~***

 

            He knew something had changed. As James wandered into the throng he could sense a difference. It was almost as if every memory from his entire existence, every book he had studied as a Pokémon Tech student had been reopened to him. And with an incredible intelligence boost to boot. After the initial shock had worn off, James began to enjoy the benefits of this new gift that had been bestowed upon him. Math and science became an innate simplicity; within moments he had managed to reprogram several Transfer Machines and Medical Units within Coalef’s Pokemon Centre to run at optimum efficiency with only the barest variety of tools.

            “Oh thank you everso much!” the Nurse Joy smiled gratefully as James brushed off the excess debris from his overalls and nodded in approval. “You are certainly a talented man, Mr…?”

            “Carl” came the suave reply. “The name’s Carl”

            “Your efforts have been most appreciated, Carl” the woman nodded, her eyes lighting up with happiness. “If there’s anything I can do for you, then please don’t hesitate to ask.”

            James nodded in acknowledgment at this generous offer. Then, after bidding farewell to the ecstatic nurse he turned to leave, but before he could do so something caught his attention. Two young children were sitting at the far side of the waiting room, glaring at each other and grasping their Pokémon protectively to their chests.

            “Lulu is so much better than your stupid Piplup,” the girl sniffed haughtily, brushing back her hair with her free hand.

            “No way!” the boy retorted, tightening his grasp around the water creature which squirmed uncomfortably. “Jetter would kick your dumb Burmy’s butt! It’s useless! All it can do is tackle.”

            The girl’s eyes were beginning to well up with tears, as were those of her brown blossom-covered Pokémon. James decided to take a chance and stepped forward to confront the children.

            “I believe your Pokémon have an equal chance” he told them with a warm smile. “Jetter is bound to be both a loyal and agile companion. But Lulu is a multi-type Pokémon. She has the potential to become three different elements.”

            “Wow…” the boy gasped as his eyes widened. “That’s real cool.”

            “Truly,” James nodded. “That Burmy may only know how to tackle now but soon it could be throwing leaves, blasting out rocks or even encasing itself in a steel shell, just like your Piplup will learn to. So think twice before you judge someone else’s Pokémon. You might be making a big mistake.”

            With a sigh, the boy stood up and gazed apologetically at his companion.

            “I’m sorry for calling your Burmy dumb, Susie” he murmured softly.

            “That’s ok Leo” the girl grinned with happiness. “Your Piplup isn’t stupid either. I think it’s real cute.”

            “Uh…thanks,” Leo bit his lip as Jetter’s red cheeks became even redder at the comment. James smiled to himself. He knew the boy wasn’t sure whether to take this as a compliment or not. After all he wanted Jetter to be considered a competent fighter, not a girl’s plush toy.

            “You sure know a lot, mister” Susie piped up, turning her gaze in James’ direction. Leo also swung his view upon the man; both kids’ faces shone with the utmost respect.

            “How’d you get to be so brainy” he asked.

            “By chance…I guess” James chuckled, his face flushing slightly at the attention.

            “Yeah, right” a new voice echoed from behind him. The man turned round to see a tall female figure with long purple hair, about two years younger than him, wearing a pair of green flared trousers with a chequered design across the bottom, an orange blouse and blue fingerless leather gloves.

            “You can’t just learn that sort of stuff by chance,” she continued sternly. “I should know. I’ve been reading up on Pokémon ever since I got my trainer’s license.”

            “Yeah. Lillie’s a real knowledge nerd. Are you a gym leader?” another person asked as they approached, only to receive a slap round the back of the head from one of the girl’s gloves.

            “Shut up, Gavin.”

            “Or a Professor?” someone else added.

            “He can’t be a Professor, Jon,” an older guy remarked, rolling his eyes. “Professors wear lab coats, not a beret and overalls”

            “Well this one might be different, Damien!” Jon snapped. “Perhaps he’s on vacation!”

            “I think he’s a Pokémon Watcher” Gavin announced.

 

            “Show us your drawings”

 

            James gulped as the figures closed in. Then the girl spoke up again.

            “Maybe you could answer a few questions” she remarked slowly. “Let’s see how much you really know or whether it was just a fluke”

            The smile returned to James’ face.

            “Sure!” he replied brightly.

            “Tell me then,” Lillie began, narrowing her eyes a little. “How many elemental types of Pokémon are there?”

            “Seventeen known elements have been recorded to date” James replied almost instantaneously. "Fire, Water, Grass, Electric, Poison, Ice, Bug, Flying, Fighting, Normal (more accurately classified as 'Neutral'), Rock, Ground, Ghost, Psychic, Dark, Steel and Dragon. Though, as some knowledgeable young ladies told me a little while back, the debate on Dragon's status as an element rather than a classification is something that's been a staple part of Pokémon League meetings for years."

            The trainers simply stood there with their mouths open as James continued to transmit his extensive knowledge.

            “Rock type Pokémon are classified by their physical composition while Ground type Pokémon can control the formation of the earth beneath their feet. Flying type Pokémon are so called because they are adept at manoeuvring air molecules, but the Pokémon League avoided naming the element 'Wind' to prevent immature jokes later on.

            And did you know that Ghost type Pokémon were actually named such due to their energy-based bodies which give them an ethereal appearance?"

            “Really?” Lillie gasped as the younger listeners chuckled amongst themselves. James was in an equal state of surprise. Half the stuff he had been saying he didn't realised he'd even known up until now. Somehow it had become lodged in the back of his short-term memory then promptly transferred to his lips.

            “Is it true that there are over 500 Pokémon in the world?” Gavin asked, tapping his feet like an overenthusiastic five-year-old awaiting the latest comic.

            “Actually no number can be placed upon the amount of Pokémon that exist on the earth” James told him. “New species are being discovered all the time, prompting the theory that new species in fact appear every now and then.”

            “What are the typical sleeping habits for a Slaking?” Damien questioned.

            “How do patches work?” Jon butted in.

            “How do I get Jetter’s skin all shiny?” Leo called from his seating place next to Susie.

            “People! People!” the Nurse Joy exclaimed as she wandered toward the group.

           

            “Carl is a human being, not a machine. Give him a chance to think!”

 

            James’ attention had strayed at this point. Outside the window of the Pokémon Centre a stunted figure trudged, a hefty sack slung over his shoulder that was almost the same size as the guy bearing its weight. Upon viewing the look of the black stringy moustache and the white bandanna tied in a ridiculous bow at the front of the man’s head James’ eyes darkened immensely.

            “It’s that…that…swindling charlatan…” he growled under his breath. “He’s not going to get away with it this time."

            The trainers exchanged confused expressions at this statement but before they could ask why James had uttered it the man had already furiously left the building.

    

***~~***~~***~~***~~***

 

             The blue 'marquee' resembled more of a beautifully-decorated tent, barely big enough for ten people. Despite its meticulous, almost inviting appearance, those passing in front of it would turn their heads aside and swiftly quicken their pace, as if trying to avoid being seen by those within. Caley paused with a confused expression and observing the crowd, his eyes beginning to glaze over in the process. It was at that moment the mental murmurings grew louder.

            Pheh, those Agrarian Seers think they're so perfect, one man uttered in a disgruntled fashion, casting a glance over his shoulder. But all they ever do is whine and complain about what they think doesn't work.

            What have the Guardians ever done for us except destroy things while fighting with one another? a young woman pushing a pram insisted, peering into the tent for a fraction of a second.

            They've been telling about 'the channel's healing' for decades, an elderly man thought bitterly. And what's happened? Nothing! Nature is still being tampered with for the benefit of the filthy rich and townspeople still live in fear of criminal syndicates.

 

            I'm starting to think the whole deal is a load o' hooie.

 

            What's that jerk staring at? a teenage girl growled, snapping Caley out of his temporary psychically-induced trance.

            "Agrarian Seers?" he murmured to himself. The name was unfamiliar to him, and the cynical internal comments of the passers-by were hardly helping to shed light on the matter. The best thing for him to do would be to ask within the tent, as this was where the thoughts had been directed. With that, Caley took a breath and weaved his way in and out the moving bodies towards the tent opening. Once he squeezed inside, the trainer was surprised to find just four figures poised upon cushions before a tiny platform, all wearing curious expressions.

            Upon the platform there sat a woman with long, flowing dark hair. She was adorned in a magnificent lavender dress with an equally elaborate patterned violet cape, the designs on which were very similar to the spindly bodies of Unown. Beside this woman knelt a younger, slightly smaller figure with short reddish hair, wearing equally decorative clothing.

            “Welcome," the dark-haired figure smiled warmly at Caley, causing all those already in the tent to turn around and look at him. There was a knowledgeable flicker in her companion's eye as she spoke. “My name is Senkensha Kazira. Please be seated, I am about to begin my talk.”

            Caley took his place upon a spare cushion and the atmosphere once again became hushed; all that could be heard was the oblivious chattering of the crowd outside. Kazira then took out a small, thick book with a dark blue leather cover which she opened upon her knees.

            "'At the breaking of the dawn, The Source devised the Opus' form'," she read in solemn tones. "'A conduit through which the world emerged'."

            There was a pause as Kazira marked the page in her book and let these words sink into the minds of her audience.

            "How many of you here today have visited the Tatto Museum of Natural History?" she inquired, seemingly out of the blue. Two of the figures raised their hands - one was a girl dressed in a white summer hat and blue vest who looked a couple of years older than Caley, the other was a boy in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans who couldn't have been much more than nine years old.

            "Do you recall the prehistoric civilisation exhibit?" the woman asked both of them.

            "Yeah!" the boy grinned. "They had the coolest Aerodactyl model there."

            "I was fascinated by the gallery of stone painting photographs," the girl spoke up softly.

            "And what was so fascinating about it, may I ask?" Kazira smiled knowingly.

            "Well...they showed Pokémon and humans of the past living together peacefully," came the reply. Kazira stood up excitedly at this point.

            "That's right! 'So why isn't it like that now?' I hear you thinking. Well, It started with a single betrayal of trust. Not between human and Pokémon, however. No...something far more devastating.

            It was between a human and his creator.            

            Undoubtedly you have studied the world's intricate ecosystem and noted its undisputable harmony with some of the most powerful Pokémon to exist. This is no sheer act of coincidence. This was a designer at work.

 

            Its name...Tajiri."

 

            "Tajiri?" another youth wearing a somewhat obscure outfit exclaimed. "But my mom always told me that Arceus made the world!"

            "Arceus may have been responsible for creating Sinnoh..." Kazira corrected, noting the figure's attire. "But not the world. This has been a common misconception brought about by those wishing to turn people against one another."

            Faint murmurings of disbelief could already be heard rippling amongst the tiny audience, but Caley continued to gaze with the utmost focus at Kazira, longing to hear more. The woman knew there would be sceptics amongst her listeners, but she wasn't ready to back down in her beliefs.

            "Who would possibly want to make people fight each other?" an equally interested figure asked with a tinge of sadness in their voice.

            "That question will take us back to an era when the world was just beginning to flourish," Kazira replied. "Besides the first two humans to exist at the time, much of the planet's single continent, Lunan, was occupied by creatures called Animalia - thought to be Pokémon's predecessors."

            At this point, Kazira's companion closed her eyes and bowed her head. A sharp gasp arose from the waiting audience as, for a split second, a blue sphere surrounded the woman. Then without warning it burst forth, encapsulating Caley and those he sat with. Suddenly the trainer found himself surrounded in a cloudy void, looking down upon fields of grass. Strange creatures he had never seen before could be seen running freely below him. These creatures bore startling resemblance to Pokémon Caley had encountered or read of in the past, but somehow they seemed smaller. Weaker.

            More Alien.

            "In the night following the humans' creation, there was a terrible storm that appeared to cover the entire earth," Kazira's voice could be heard amongst the psychic projection. "Shortly after this storm cleared, Tajiri began to manifest the very first creatures we have come to know as Pokémon - those you are more likely to see in museums today instead of walking freely about the land.

            Aerodactyl, Kabuto, Omanyte, Anorith, Lileep, Relicanth...these new life forms showed amazing power and though the humans were puzzled at their creator's decision to make Pokemon instead of Animalia, they accepted it with respect, soon forming close bonds with their latest earthly companions. But this tranquillity was not to last for long."

            As the projection was retracted, bringing Caley's mind and those of the other figures spinning back to reality, Kazira returned to the book upon her knee.

            "'The Flood devoured a living soul, dividing circumstance once whole'," she quoted. "'Thus worlds shall stand apart, until the channel heals'. These are the words etched upon the Tablet of Origi, the most potent message our creator left behind before its means of communication with us was broken once again."

            "How could water eat someone?" the young boy in the hooded sweater exclaimed with an extremely worried expression. Caley sat bolt upright as the figures next to him craned their necks. He had begun to sense their growing anticipation as Kazira looked saddened.

            "This 'flood' was not an act of weather," she responded quietly. "It is a description given to Sattochi, an entity of darkest measures, young man. It was responsible for cultivating jealousy over the elemental abilities of Pokémon in one of our human ancestors. It was that jealousy that drove the very same human to step into The Tree of Beginning - a location he had been forbidden to enter. The resulting disobedience brought tragedy upon us all.

            You see the Tree of Beginning is primarily responsible for controlling the energy levels that keep our world in balance. When that ancestor entered the central core of the tree, he caused an energy flux so great that it tore a hole in space itself. As a result, Sattochi gained passage to this dimension. Mew chased after it before using herself as means to seal the rift. Her quick thinking prevented our world from ceasing to exist entirely, but it also trapped her here with Sattochi."

            "So that scary evil creature thing is on this planet with us?" one of the audience members squeaked.

            "Yes, but thankfully it has since been contained," Kazira couldn't help but chuckle at the petrified expression. "The details of such an occurrence are something to be disclosed at another time. If you long to find out more, the Agrarian Seers of Tomary Tower are always willing to satisfy inquiring minds.

 

            For now, let us conclude."

          

            As Kazira returned the book to her bag, Caley slowly got to his feet and watched the other figures in the tent scramble for the exit. One of them was muttering under his breath that what the woman had said was simply paranoid nonsense, while yet another admitted she wanted to believe, but couldn't see how a being like Tajiri could exist in a world full of technological progress and scientific discovery. Caley paused in the tent opening - for some reason he was finding it hard to leave. Eventually he plucked up the courage to ask something.

            "I'm sorry if this seems a foolish question," he began. "And maybe I've led a somewhat sheltered life before now but...why do people talk so badly about the Agrarian Seers?"

            "A tarnished reputation does not account for much," Kazira sighed as her silent companion gazed at Caley mournfully. "Seers of the past have abused their positions, resulting in grief for many. In the end, the organization was victimized and the Seer Elders were forced to go into hiding. The rest of us resumed anonymity for some time. When we returned, the world seemed to have forgotten Tajiri or his earthly attendants ever existed. Others had directed their attentions toward Pokémon, cultivating unhealthy obsessions over their abilities. It is why so many people believe Arceus is responsible for our existence."

            "Wow...that's harsh," Caley scratched his head. Truth to tell, he was having trouble understanding why no one else was as interested in Kazira's words as he had. But that wasn't his primary concern. Though he had learnt much, the prominent questions in his mind were still left unanswered. But his informant appeared unwilling to divulge further. Feeling somewhat uncomfortable, Caley began to leave.

            "There is something else you need to know," Kazira remarked from behind the trainer. It was more a statement than a question, prompting Caley to turn around. "It is not something I am able to tell you. But the one who can is nearby. He knew you would be here and asked that I direct you to him once the talk was over."

            "Where is this person?" the trainer inquired.

            "On the outskirts of Coalef, not too far east of this tent," came the reply. Caley nodded with a grateful smile.

            "Thank you for sharing your knowledge, Kazira. I appreciated it, even if no one else seemed to."

            "I know you did," Kazira returned the smile with genuine warmth. "It's so wonderful to see there are still others out there with open eyes and a willingness to learn. Just never stop searching.

 

            And good luck on your journey...Caley."

 

***~~***~~***~~***~~***

           

            James’ first instinct was to dive at the stunted figure with the black hair and the oversized sack slung over his shoulder and beat him silly but common sense prevented him from doing so. Instead he kept within the crowd and studied the figure’s actions with great intent.

            “Now the only way to fool a conman…is to beat him at his own game. But how do you con a conman?”

            His growing contempt was making it difficult to think of a suitable revenge plan for his source of past financial loss.

            “Focus, James…focus!” he muttered under his breath, avoiding yet another cluster of bodies in the crowd. But still, his angered mind bubbled and spat in its disbelief.

            Thoughtless…absolutely thoughtless. That fraudulent speck and his sticky-fingered ploys! Why, all he cares about is filling his pockets with-

 

            Ahhhh…

 

            It was at this point an extremely dark and sickly smile had crept upon James’ face. He rubbed his hands and chuckled to himself.

            “Of course…” he remarked. “In the game of deception, money is all that counts. And that has given me a perfect idea. But first…I need to get some appropriate equipment”

 

***~~***~~***~~***~~***

             

            “Ohhhhhh…I’m in heaven.

            Please don’t wake me up from this beautiful dream…”

 

            Mondo chuckled to himself as Denise stood there in a state of awed admiration. The pair of figures had just arrived at the entrance to the Intel Marquee (which in fact wasn’t actually a marquee, more of a vast hall) and one of them now seemed incapable of moving; frozen to the spot as she marvelled at the displays of mechanical prowess all around her.

            “Tell me” she began softly. “Exactly how long have I been away?”

            “Only a couple of months” Mondo replied. “But science and technology wait for no one. Things have certainly come a long way since we were both TR Technicians.

 

            Follow me and I’ll show you what I mean.”

 

            As they picked their way amongst the tables, Denise examined the contents upon each of them carefully. Each carefully constructed device was polished so well that her reflection could be clearly seen upon their metallic surfaces.

            “Now that little gizmo is a Thybration unit” Mondo pointed out as Denise studied a delicate object laid out upon a velveteen cloth. The figure behind the table grinned proudly.

            “This baby can seek out the presence of Ground type Pokémon by simply calculating the tremors felt through the soil,” he explained. “Its Sensory Processor is so sensitive it can pick up the movements of a Diglett from ten miles away!”

            Denise let out a breath of astonishment.

            “Wow, that’s cool”

            “And here…” Mondo continued brightly as he wandered over to a table further down the row. “…is a piece of equipment with the ability to contain Pokémon without the use of Pokéballs”

            “I named it ‘Storacom’” the woman with a cubical device strapped to her back announced. “It can carry twice as many Pokémon as a trainer can with normal Pokéballs and has an easy to use catalogue and retrieval system too.”

            "Good luck on getting that licensed," Denise sweatdropped. "You know how strict the league is about their six Pokémon travel limit."

            As the two figures continued to walk, the corners of Mondo’s eyes creased up at the corners until you could hardly see his pupils at all.

            “This is my personal favourite” he murmured with reverence, casting his hand ahead of him. Denise looked up and practically slowed to a standstill, her lower jaw trembling like it had a life of its own. Mondo put on a smug expression. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

            “Uh huh…” Denise slurred, just about managing to stop herself from drooling down her white tank top. For there before her towered a monumental marvel; its four long blades stretching out into the air and its wide glass windscreen and elegant metallic panels glistening in the daylight.

            “I call it the Smarpache” the young man announced. “All the versatility of a road vehicle with the added function of air travel.”

            Denise patted Mondo on the shoulder.

            “Odd name, but still...I couldn’t be more impressed,” she remarked, a hint of envy in her voice. “Kind of makes me wish I’d made it myself.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Not that I can…what with the things that are happening in my life at the moment.”

            Mondo also sighed in sympathy at his friend’s circumstances.

            “Your time will come, ‘Rita’. I’m sure of it. Your talents are too great to be simply left in the dark.”

            Denise’s face lit up a little.

            “Yeah” she murmured. “I can’t be selfish and pursue my own goals right now. Caley needs me.”

            A flicker of sadness passed over Mondo’s face at this point, but it quickly vanished as the sounds of two irritable male voices shattered the atmosphere.

            “You really try my patience, Neville!” one of them yelled. “It said nothing of the sort!”

            “Well what did you think it said, oh all-knowing brother of mine?” another voice retorted sarcastically, slightly higher pitched than the last.

            “Whatever it was it certainly bore no resemblance to the utter nonsense you interpreted!” the previous voice snapped back.

           

            “My interpretation was not nonsense, Morris and you know it!”

 

            Mondo raised his eyebrows before picking up his pace once more. Denise followed in curiosity and as she rounded the same corner her friend had passed, the scene came into view. Two tall men in the