A/N: Thanks to everyone for reviewing! PlasmaBomb, thanks a ton for your review, it was really helpful. I took your advice and deleted the part about Sky's secret dream, and tried to tone it down a little. As per your comments about character development, I think you have a point, but I like to develop characters in my stories slowly, by putting them in situations and writing their responses—in other words, in showing, not telling.
Okay, here's the chapter. It's pretty long for a fanfiction chapter, so if you don't like it, cry about it. I like to write.
Oh, and for anyone who's wondering, no, Pokemon is not owned by a fourteen-year-old mastermind. I just write about it.
Dylan Imena yawned slowly and awoke to the sound of an annoying buzz. He fumbled next to his bed for the alarm clock's sleep button. He sat up in bed, then lay back down again. This was not looking like one of those days where he would bound up, ready for the new day.
As he pulled his blanket closer around him, he thought about the day ahead of him. It would be pretty boring, he figured, until he, Lily, and Sky could head back to the Tower of Grays and see the Gastly they had found. Dylan had a few things planned to do when they returned to the Tower.
Forty minutes and two bowls of cereal later, Dylan hoisted his backpack onto his shoulders and headed out the door. He got into the passenger's seat of the car and drummed his fingers on the dashboard, waiting for his mother to come out. As he sat thinking, his mind returned to the three Rockets who had chased him the day before.
Something about them made him nervous. He, Sky, and Lily knew how to deal with Rockets; in fact, it was a central part of one of their games. What was it about those three that made him so uneasy?
Then he remembered: he had seen the female Rocket reach inside her jacket, like one might reach for a pair of gloves.
Or a gun.
Dylan shivered as his mother walked out to the car and turned the key in the ignition. He was quiet all the way to school, thinking for the first time that maybe he and his friends were playing with fire when they taunted the Rocket punks that stalked through Lavender Town.
His mother turned on the radio to fill the silence. It was an ad for mattresses. Dylan tuned out, lost in thought. He glanced at the two members of the Pokemon Watch that they passed. Then something coming from the radio caught his attention.
It was a news report. Apparently Pallet City's Pokemon Watch had just fought off a dangerous wild Pokemon. A fire type, thought to be a Magmar, had somehow broken through the electric fence surrounding the city and melted or burned seven houses before the Pokemon Watch managed to drive it off. It was now out of the city, but in its anger had apparently set off numerous brushfires along Route One. The city's fire department was trying to get them under control. Hopefully, said the radio, the fires would be out in a day or two.
It was just another natural disaster to pile on top of all the other miseries that humans were going through. Society still had not recovered from the shock of losing its ability to tame Pokemon.
As the car pulled up at school, Dylan thought uneasily that the next disaster could just as easily strike Lavender Town.
He looked around as he walked into school. He spotted a familiar red-haired head.
"Hey! Sky!" he called. Sky turned to look and walked over to Dylan. He grinned as he approached.
"Can't wait to get out of school," he said. "I'll show that Gastly a thing or two about surprises."
"Keep your voice down!" said Dylan. If anyone found out about the Gastly, the three of them would be forbidden to go near it again. Even though the Gastly wasn't dangerous, nobody would want to take chances with wild Pokemon. Too many people had been killed when they strayed past the electric fence. Come to think of it, Pokemon had even caused a few grave injuries to people inside the town's borders. No, thirteen-year-old children couldn't be trusted around a Gastly.
The day passed quickly, with Dylan not even really paying attention to his classes. There was one exception, though. Dylan paid rapt attention in Dr. Agnam's biology class.
"Yesterday we learned that Pokemon were different from animals because of their control over Technic energy," said Dr. Agnam as the bell rung, signaling the start of class. "But there are a few other things that set Pokemon apart as well."
She wiped the whiteboard clean and wrote "Pokemon" on one side and "Animals" on the other. "First of all, they are intelligent," said Dr. Agnam. Under the word "Pokemon", she wrote "sentient". Under "Animals", she wrote "not sentient". Then she turned to face the class.
"One of the ways Pokemon have evolved to control Technic energy is intelligence. To control Technic energy, an organism has to be aware of itself and its surroundings in terms of more than predator, prey, and obstacles. The average Pokemon is roughly as intelligent as an eight-year-old child. There are a few exceptions, like Alakazam, but for the most part this is the case."
Dr. Agnam moved over to a slide projector. She plugged it in and turned it on. She looked around. "Could someone turn off the lights, please?" Someone did, and the square light on the whiteboard was thrown into sharper detail. Dr. Agnam put a slide into the projector.
"This is a slide made of an X-ray of a Rattatta's brain," said Dr. Agnam. She switched the slide for another. This one showed a smaller version of the Rattatta's brain next to a human's.
"You'll notice a few differences between the two," continued Dr. Agnam. "The parts of the brain that control emotion, interaction, and loyalty are very highly developed in a Pokemon. By contrast, the parts of their brain dealing with rational thought—say, for example, math problems—are smaller than in humans. And here is a very large oddity—this section of the brain right here." She pointed to a large lump of brain matter. "This lobe deals with language skills. Pokemon have a remarkable talent for communication. They can learn to understand most human languages in less than a month. They also can understand and communicate with each other. Unfortunately, the speech organs of a Pokemon are not able to duplicate the sounds of human language. They can understand you quite easily, but they can't talk back." Dr. Agnam paused to change slides. "That X-ray was taken back when Pokemon were still trainable. This next one was taken two weeks ago from another Rattatta, caught in the wild." She put the slide in. This Pokemon's brain looked slightly different.
"It appears," said Dr. Agnam, "that Pokemon have changed in more than just their vulnerability to being captured." She pointed to a different section of the brain. "The medulla oblongata has grown larger in most Pokemon. This is the section of the brain that causes anger and hostility. Pokemon today are much more aggressive. However, along with the medulla oblongata, the other emotional sections of the brain have grown as well. By contrast, the logic and reasoning sections have shrunk slightly. Today's Pokemon appear to be much more intelligent than, say, a chimpanzee. But they are less intelligent than the average child. If this trend continues, scientists believe that Pokemon may eventually lose all intelligence whatsoever—and become little more than animals again."
Lily spun the combination lock on her locker and pulled it open. As she started to pack her bag, she thought back to the day before. Something seemed wrong about what had happened.
Why, for instance, had the Gastly they found been so friendly? Most Pokemon would attack humans mercilessly. And how had it gotten past the channelers? Friendly or not, Ghost Pokemon should have been completely restrained by those chants.
The chants... Lily shivered. Those chants were the eeriest thing she had ever heard. What could make anyone want to be a channeler, standing there all day long, chanting ceaselessly and tracing arcane gestures in the air?
Lily frowned to herself. That was another oddity. How, exactly, did the channelers' magic work? Was it some kind of psychic energy? But that wouldn't make sense either. Ghost Pokemon were remarkably immune to mental powers. So what was it about the channelers that kept the Ghosts at bay? And why did it require all those chants and runes to make it work?
"Lily!"
She looked up and saw Dylan waving her over. Sky leaned against the lockers behind him. "One sec!" said Lily. She dropped one last thing into her bookbag. She had the beginnings of a theory about what the channelers used against the Ghosts. The thing she had just put in her bag would tell her if it was right or not.
She was sure she was right.
As they biked towards the Tower of Grays, Sky thought about what was in his backpack. He had an idea of something new to try with the Gastly. It might be a silly idea, or it might turn out to be a great one. Who knew? It would all depend on what happened today. Would it be a bad idea or a good one?
Sky intended to find out.
They pulled up in front of the Tower, and Dylan thought about the things he planned to try today. It was a wild idea, but Dylan thought it just might work. Well, there was only one way to find out.
It depended on what the Gastly thought.
"Come on!" Sky called, jumping off his bike. He hurried over to the door. Dylan checked quickly around to make sure that the three Team Rocket members weren't skulking in the parking lot. He saw nothing, and ran over to the door behind Lily. Sky was already inside, picking out a few sticks of incense. At first Dylan was confused by it. Then he remembered: yesterday, the Gastly had eaten the incense Dylan had been holding. It made sense to bring up some more.
"Should we go get some, you think?" asked Lily.
"Nah," said Dylan. "Sky's got enough for all three of us." He walked over to the stairs. As Lily followed him, he noticed her looking strangely at the channeler standing guard. Sky followed behind them.
"Why'd you bring your backpack inside?" Dylan asked him.
"Um, I was—rushing in fast and I, uh, forgot to take it off," said Sky, looking embarrassed and—nervous? "Why does it matter?"
Dylan shrugged. "It doesn't, really. Just wondering." He pushed open the door to the second level of the Tower of Grays. They walked in with their voices hushed, looking around. The floor was almost completely silent. They could faintly hear the mumbling of a channeler, which made the silence seem even more oppressive. They looked around at the gray piles of memorial stones. Nothing moved.
Dylan turned around and found himself staring into a pair of huge red eyes and a fanged mouth dripping slime. Harsh, raggedy breathing filled his ears.
He yelled in fear and jumped backwards. The Gastly laughed, its eyes changing back to normal and its mouth closing. Dylan's heart raced. He could hear Sky chuckling in the background and started to laugh with him. Lily smiled, taking something from around her neck.
Dylan turned to look. Lily held a strange-looking chain. Dangling from it was a purple crystal that glittered in the candlelight.
"What's that?" asked Dylan.
Lily held the chain up. "It's an amulet," she said. "Supposed to give the wearer protection from evil spirits."
Sky snickered. "Thinking of trying for a scholarship to Channeler College?"
Lily flicked him in the side of the head. "I have a theory about the Gastly," she said. "I was wondering why it ate your incense yesterday, and how the channelers were able to keep Ghosts at bay. So I decided to test out my idea."
"But we don't want to drive the Gastly away," said Dylan, confused. "Why would you bring an amulet that's supposed to repel it?"
"For starters," said Lily, "I didn't bring this specifically for the Gastly. I wear it every time I come into the Tower of Grays, just in case. Second of all, it won't chase the Gastly away—it just won't want to come near it."
"What kind of theory are you trying to test anyway?" said Sky.
"Watch," said Lily simply. She walked over to the Gastly and held up the amulet. Immediately the Ghost flew five feet away. She walked over to it again, and again it moved away. Lily nodded to herself and put the amulet back around her neck. She reached into her pocket and brought out something wrapped in paper. She looked up and found herself staring right into the Gastly's eyes.
She saw something in her mind. It was an image of her laughing and playing with the Gastly—an image of yesterday. Then the image was replaced with one of her stalking towards the Gastly with cold eyes, holding up the amulet, which radiated hateful red light in all directions. A sense of inquiry or question seemed to underline the scene. Slowly, she understood.
The Gastly was asking why she had tried to chase it off. She shook her head. "I wasn't trying to hurt you or scare you," she said. "I just wanted to try to understand you better, and what makes you the way you are."
This answer seemed to satisfy the Gastly. It stopped staring at her and turned its attention to the package in her hand. She unwrapped the paper and held it up.
In Lily's hand was a vial of a dark red liquid.
"Is that..." Dylan made a face. "...blood?"
"Yes," said Lily. "My blood. I pricked my finger on a thorn and collected some of the blood."
"Why?" said Dylan, disgusted.
"To see if the Gastly would eat it." She uncorked the vial and held it out to the Gastly. It grabbed the glass bottle and drank the blood inside.
Lily turned to Dylan and Sky, who were looking fearfully at the Gastly. "It's not a vampire, don't worry," she told them. "My theory—and it seems to be a correct one—is that Pokemon composed of Ghost-type energy are very susceptible to symbolism and ritual. The reason it ate the incense yesterday is because the incense wasn't just spice. It was made for a purpose, to be used in funeral rites. Ghost Pokemon feed on intention. They have a taste for things that have meaning for humans. It ate the blood just now, not because blood is its natural food, but because blood is what humans think a Ghost would like to drink." Lily held up her amulet to Dylan and Sky. "And the channelers work the same way. Their rites produce unpleasant sensations in Ghost Pokemon, thereby keeping them at bay. That's why my amulet worked on the Gastly—because the Gastly could feel the purpose of it: to keep things like Ghosts away. The person who made this had malice towards Ghosts and spirits, and the Gastly could feel that malice, and found it unpleasant."
Dylan understood what Lily was saying, but it didn't make sense to him. How could anything, Ghost or otherwise, feel the emotions and intentions of other people? How could it get sustenance from purpose and symbolism?
Well, Lily's experiment seemed to confirm the theory, crazy as it might be.
"So it lives up here, feeding on incense and grief, just like all the Ghost Pokemon in the Tower do," concluded Lily. "So in a way, it really is a ghost. It's the ghost of the people whose death-rites feed it."
"You know what?" said Dylan. "We really should stop calling this Gastly it." He turned to the Ghost. "Are you male or female?" The Gastly's eyes met his, and he received another one of those mind-visions. "Male," Dylan said. "Alright, why don't we call you..." He thought for a moment. "Specter."
Specter nodded. Apparently, he was pleased with his name. Dylan started to speak, but he realized that a channeler was approaching. He could hear her chanting growing louder as she drew nearer. She would be there in another second or two. "Hide!" he hissed to the Ghost. Specter vanished immediately, fading to transparency in less than a second.
A channeler walked around the pile of memorial blocks. She was chanting, but when she saw the three kids, she stopped. Her face relaxed and her eyes came back into focus. She seemed to have reentered the world.
"Is any of you Dylan Imena?" she asked, looking at each of them in turn.
"That's me," said Dylan. The channeler looked at him. Dylan noticed idly that she was actually very pretty now. Channelers all looked the same when they were meditating, like a uniform style of mask. They had different features, of course, but it was hard to notice anything about them besides their blank expression of concentration. But now, aware of the world, she looked pretty, with her long black hair cascading around her soft face.
"Your mother is looking for you, Dylan," she said. "You should probably go see what she wants." Dylan swallowed and nodded, relieved that she wasn't there to forbid them from ever entering the upper floors again. Then, the full extent of what the channeler was telling him sunk home. "You mean my mom is here?" he asked, not quite believing it.
"No, no," laughed the channeler. "She called on the phone. You weren't anywhere we could see, so I was sent to check the upper floors."
Dylan was puzzled. Why would his mother call here? She knew absolutely nothing about the Gastly.
The three of them stepped into the sunlight, which seemed harsh after the dimly-lit interior of the Tower of Grays. "So, do you guys wanna come over to my house? Whatever my mom wants me for can't be very long."
"Fine," said Sky with a tone of mock resignation. "I'll come to your stupid house. But only 'cause you're getting all on my case about it."
Lily laughed softly at Sky. "I should probably be getting home, actually. I'm supposed to baby-sit my little brother tonight."
As Dylan biked home with Sky, he thought of something. "Hey," he said. "I wonder how my mom knew I was at the Tower."
"She probably called my house first. My dad would have told her," said Sky. Dylan looked over at him. "You told your dad where we were going?" he asked.
"Well, I told him we were going to the Tower, not that we were gonna go to the higher floors," replied Sky. "I figured it was better if he knew where I was." This was probably true. Sky's mother had died by falling into a river six years ago. Ever since then, his father had clung to Sky, afraid of losing him, too. Mr. Travis wasn't overbearing or overprotective, but he liked to know where Sky was and how long he would be there. He liked to be certain of how to find his son when he needed to.
Dylan turned into his driveway with Sky just behind him. They dropped their bikes in a heap and walked up to the door.
"Mom? I'm back!" called Dylan as he walked inside. Sky followed, closing the door behind him. "Sky's with me, is that okay?"
"Yes, that's fine," his mom called from the living room. "But come in here, will you?" The two of them walked down the hallway into the living room. Inside, Dylan was surprised to see his father and Mae standing with his mother. Mae was holding a package.
"Dylan, your grandfather left us a lot of his estate," said his father. He swallowed, the grief he felt for his father evident in his face. Then he continued. "Besides a large amount of money—which is in a college fund for you—he left you and your sister a few other things. Mae already has hers." he pointed to the box in Mae's hands. "Here," said his father, handing him a large package.
Dylan hefted it, curious. It didn't seem to be all that heavy. He wondered what was inside. "What is it?" he asked.
His father shrugged. "We don't know. It came like that. Why don't you go upstairs and open it in your room?"
"Why not here?" asked Dylan, puzzled. His father sighed.
"Because whatever's in there is probably very personal," said his father. "Your mother and I thought it would be best if you opened it in private, and told us about it later." Dylan nodded. He turned and walked out of the room, heading upstairs with Sky behind him. When he got to the door of his room, he turned to Sky. "Um...Sky?" he said uncomfortably. "I...kind of think my dad was right. I should open this in private."
Sky nodded, understanding. "I'll wait out here. Just be quick, okay?" Dylan nodded and walked into his room. He closed the door behind him and opened up the box.
At first he could not believe what was inside.
Resting on a heap of tissue paper was a massive array of Silph Co. products. There were ten healing Potions, a myriad of Antidotes, Paralyze Heals, and Burn heals, a field guide to Pokemon, a small survival kit—and a Pokeball.
He picked up the Pokeball. The diode on it glowed a faint red.
It was full.
"Sky!" he said. "Come in here!" Sky opened the door and walked in. He stopped and stared at the Pokeball in Dylan's hand, and at the glowing light on the front. They both knew what it meant.
It meant that Dylan was the owner of one of the last controlled Pokemon in the world.
Dylan pressed the release button on the Pokeball.
There was a blinding flash of light.