A/N: Questions!

'JustanothrJustin' has reviewed on every chapter with criticism, so I'll summarize his points to keep things short.
CH1: There should have been more dialog with Prof. Oak. Maybe sarcastic banter.
I definitely agree. The first chapter was done quite a long time ago. If (and hopefully when) I finish this fanfiction, I'll probably go through every chapter and edit, not just the rewording and spelling fixes I currently do.

Ch2: Give more examples of Ash using aura in front of his mother. Show Ash's age better, he sounds older.
Yeah, I should have given more examples. I blame laziness. As for Ash's age, it's supposed to be implied that an outside force has 'jump-started' his intelligence (which will become far more clear when the story ends), but I do think I made him too mature.

Ch3: 5 year jump is too much. Ash's "You CANNOT kill my friend!" seem weird at this point in their relationship.
Let's start on the jump, I have two reasons for its length. First, his main growth is throughout his journey, not during that period. Second, I plan to have flashbacks to his training that demonstrate 'moves' he wouldn't have done if Oak hadn't been present.
As for his short speech, Ash was just trying to save the guy. His bravado was a way to get the spearow to feel sympathy. I just read it though, and it could have been written better (a lot of this could, actually).

Ch4: More information on him being a prodigy. Why was the girl at the hospital?
She actually got him there, but the reason she stayed was because ash got her bike wrecked. This will actually be addressed in this chapter. As for him being a prodigy, there haven't been any points to showcase it between ch1-4. Chapter 5 will show some of it through the training, and Chapter 6 shows his strategic prowess.

Ch5: Maybe this chapter should have come earlier?
It couldn't have been right after getting Pikachu...he was kinda busy. As for why it's taken this long to reach this, I'm trying to give a solid background for what happens. I hate it when stories make up random back stories to support a random idea they have.

Ch6: Actually, he had no criticisms for this. He enjoyed it. As for when chapter 7's coming out...well...

Just Another Pawn

Edited as of 3/26/2018

Chapter 7: Foundations of a Strategy

"Nngghh," I groaned.

I blearily blinked my eyes open to reveal a plain hospital room.

Again? Really?

Sitting up, I saw a face I wasn't sure whether to be happy about seeing: Brock. Well, him and Misty.

"Welcome back. That looked like quite a hit you took."

I glared at him, "Yeah, I wonder why that would be. Why am I in a hospital for an accident you caused? I can't imagine it being an easy to explain story."

Unless hospitals know about aura guardians.

Brock smiled innocently, "Well technically that was my friend. To answer your question though, you had a strange fainting spell after our fight."

Fainting spell, eh? If even hospitals don't know about aura, who does?

"Whatever, I have stuff I need to get done."

With that said, I decided to sign out of the hospital. The nurses wanted me to stay to find the cause of my "fainting spell", but weren't able to legally keep me against my will; a stay to learn about a fake story didn't exactly seem appealing. I learned Brock was kind enough to get my pokemon healed up while I was out. I was having a hard time getting a read on him. He freezes me with almost no explanation, appears 5 five years later to beat me up, then tries to be my friend. If that doesn't say "ulterior motive", I don't know what does.

A mere half hour had passed and I was already training. Having two pokemon enabled me to have them train offence and defense against each other, leaving me to take care of other things. I presently had them doing a simple exercise consisting of Pikachu shooting weak Thundershocks at Pidgeotto, who'd dodge; this was a great way to help them on their given advantages.

I was sitting on a stump with a notepad, writing down ideas as to what had happened during Pidgeotto's fight. It seemed as though she had managed to create a new attack, or at least modified an existing one. It had already become obvious to me that "pokemon moves" were different manipulations of a pokemon's aura. From what I could tell, Pidgeotto's quick transition between moves, coupled with an abrupt increase in speed, had caused the aura to form differently from normal.

"Whatcha writin'?"

I shot forward in surprise and turned to see Brock's usual smug look.

He snuck up on me. Just how much better is he?

I gave him a glare, "If you must know, I'm working on what Pidgeotto did during our fight. I'm sure you noticed the off coloring."

Brock's face turned serious, "Yeah, I did. I've been around aura and pokemon since the day I was born, and I've never seen something like that. What's your theory?"

I turned to my notebook, gathering the information I was willing to part with, "To put it simply, she used aura. She used it to somehow 'mix' the two moves into one."

Brock gave a glare mimicking mine from before, "Don't lie to me, Ash. If that was the case, there would be many reports of the phenomenon."

I sighed, "What do you know about pokemon moves."

He raised an eyebrow, "They're abilities pokemon learn through training and experience."

"Well...not quite. Through my research, I've begun to believe that pokemon manipulate their own aura to create 'pokemon moves'. As to why they're always the same, I believe that to be from genetic code. I've been teaching my pokemon to use their aura intentionally, so she probably mixed the two moves by accident."

"What makes you think it was by accident?"

My eyes widened slightly in shock.

He's right! I assumed that the move was unintentional, but it actually makes more sense to assume it was on purpose!

I quickly started jotting more notes, "You're right! If this was on purpose, it's safe to assume it's possible to create, or at least modify abilities! And if she was able to do it already, it goes to stand that creation of new moves could be a simple and fast process!"

Brock winced, "No, it wouldn't. Like you said, those two moves are probably in her genes. It would make sense if the combination of them stemmed more from instinctual knowledge of the moves rather than knowledge of aura manipulation."

He's...right. He's fixing my assumptions. I'm regaled as a genius in my hometown, and yet I'm managing to make baseless assumptions that get corrected by someone I haven't even known for 24 hours.

"Yeah, I guess that does make things a tad harder. Hell, it may not even be possible! Whatever the-"

I was rudely interrupted by Onix, a giant rock snake, bursting out of the ground where my pokemon were training.

I cast a glance to Brock with an eyebrow raised, "Is that really necessary?"

Pikachu sat on my shoulder with faint hue of white fading around him, completely unharmed, leaving a confused onix to look around for him.

"Pikachu relies heavily on hearing; Dig won't catch him off guard very easily."

Brock smirked, "I chose the right person. I expect you'll continue advancements on aura?"

I matched his smirk with my own, "Yeah. Don't expect me to give you all the information though; I'm not giving away my edge that easily."

And with a blink of my eyes, Brock was gone. Nothing was left but the slight breeze of his departure and an indent in the grass where he once stood.

Why is only this grass indented? Did he jump away? And when did he return Onix?

I stood there dumbfounded. Strategy or not, there was a vast difference between our power.

o0O-O0o

I left for Flint's store with Brock and Misty on my right and left sides respectively; Misty for her bike, and Brock for directions. Pikachu was practicing stealth by tailing us as discreetly as he could (not that discreetly as far as I'm concerned).

The store looked reminiscent of a run-of-the-mill gift shop, but with the addition of a small concrete area to the right containing bikes and similar vehicles. The bikes didn't look exceptional by any means, and I wouldn't expect a gift shop owner to be particularly great at engineering, but Oak's wisdom greatly exceeded my own, making the stop at least worth a shot.

Brock opened the door for us - prompting a curtsy from Misty - welcoming us to the stuffy atmosphere expected of such a store. Walking up to the reception desk, I was greeted to the sight of a middle-aged man with an abundance of poorly kept facial hair. I don't like judging by appearances, but this was becoming less and less credible.

"Excuse me, but could I speak to a man named Flint?"

The man gave me a monotonal response, "You're lookin' at him, kid. Wha' do you want."

"Err, Professor Oak recommended you to repair my bike. Are you available?" I asked, more unsure as time passed.

His tone grew more interested, "You Ash?" I nodded. "I've been expecting you. Give me the bike, I'll have it repaired in a few days' time. Won't be cheap though."

With some reassurance coming back, I lifted the bike and set it against a wall.

Flint looked at me with a realization dawning, "Professor Oak didn't tell you about me, did he?"

I looked at him confusedly. He pressed a button beneath his desk. On cue, a rectangular portion of the wall next to him folded forward onto the ground with a conveyor belt on its back.

I looked on in awe, "...Well damn. Exactly how much is this going to cost me?"

"For a student of Oak's? 45000 Poke-dollars."

I gave a slight wince at the cost he was offering.

Geeze, Oak wasn't kidding when he said this guy was expensive.

"This is what I get for taking a bicycle, I guess," I groaned, handing over practically my life's savings.

Brock, who had only been glaring until now, spoke a single word to stop any proceedings, "Dad."

Oh come on! I just started my pokemon journey, can't the drama come later?!

Flint gave a smirk that looked eerily similar to Brock's, "So you've decided to acknowledge my presence? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Brock continued his glare, "The Aura Guardians need your help."

Stop the drama! Please!

"Oh? And what are you paying for my services?"

Brock ground his teeth, "A safe world."

Flint chuckled, "Sorry boy, that ain't gonna cut it. Either you cough up some money, or you can take a hike."

"Is this some sort of joke to you?!" Brock shouted, "The world is close to destruction, and the only thing you can think about is cash? Have human decency for a change! All the money in the world won't buy mom ba-!"

Flint swiftly struck Brock's face, bringing about a look of shock that seemed to freeze time itself.

"Shut it, boy," he glared,"I know you hate me for leaving your mother, but you had better learn to shut the f %$ up about other people's business. I don't give a damn about her, and never will. You can leave my shop and forget about any help to your little club."

Brock fumed, growing red in the face. Without a word of retaliation, he quickly left the house, going anywhere but there.

Flint turned to me sheepishly, "Sorry about that, we don't exactly have the best relationship. I'll send you the bike in through delivery as an apology."

I gave a nod, showing a serious attitude to the situation. On the inside, however, there was a different story going on.

Holy shit! Talk about an unstable relationship! Though, considering what I've seen of Flint's technology, Brock may have been right to consider this guy as a potential ally...

Not wanting to chat in the now sour atmosphere, I walked to the door to leave.

"The old water mill."

I twisted my body to look back at Flint, only to find an empty store. Without giving the lack of appearance a second thought, I left.

I was unable to sense Brock's aura, but Flint's piece of advice about the water mill came in handy. I hadn't actually been aware that there was one, so I had to ask for directions from a few pedestrians.

Several minutes later, I approached a torn, broken down building at the edge of a drying river. If it weren't for the wheel sprawled against the ground, and already knowing what this place was, I wouldn't have guessed it had been a water mill.

Atop the roof sat Brock with his legs dangling into a hole. He looked...different. He was normally manipulative and well guarded, viewing interaction as a game to achieve his own goals. But now...he looked serene. His posture was lax, and even the faint aura I could sense from him was calm and tranquil.

"He told you where I was, eh?"

Having reached the building, I walked in and sat on a wooden bench - one of the only intact objects in the room.

Not wanting to respond to the rhetorical question, I asked my own, "Why here?"

Brock gave a short, sad laugh, "This place generated energy a few years ago. Back when my mother was here, my father ran the gym, and I barely had a f %$ing geodude. A time before I had responsibility forced upon my shoulders. The river here had started drying up at the time, so the mill had to be closed down while workers tried to find a way to keep the mill running. Without anyone manning the place, some idiot decided to come start the mill artificially to charge his electric type. A few minutes and a powerful electric attack later, the kid was in critical condition, and his pokemon were dead."

I chuckled darkly. Despite the sad fate to fall onto the kid, the idiocy of the situation made the story almost laughable.

"So how do you make your energy now?"

Brock shrugged, "To put it simply, we don't. Pewter is broke as hell, but having the most visited gym in the region gives a few perks. The Pokemon League gives us energy as payment for our work."

I raised an eyebrow, "As payment? Do you not get an actual pay?"

He sighed with disdain, "Tell me, Ash, how much did you pay to become a pokemon trainer, and eventually challenge my gym?"

"None...oh. Then where does the League get its money?"

"Pokemon tournaments. They're the only paid service we have. The president, Mr. Goodshow, also gives support with some of the companies he owns in other regions."

"Pokeballs?"

"Those are made by private organizations, so we don't get any money from those sales."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Then why not just stop running the League if it costs so much?"

"To make a balance. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. The League is the closest thing we have to a government, and they know that. They're also aware that they could easily become tyrannical, thus they keep the League running to keep themselves in check. Now if they try to force tyrannical rule, they'll be stopped by pokemon trainers."

I furrowed my brow once more, one thing wasn't adding up, "When we first met, you said the League was corrupt, but now you're treating it like a business just trying to get by. Why is that?"

"They don't make enough money."

"Excuse me?"

Brock turned to face me for the first time, and stared me dead in the eye, "The money that goes into the League still isn't enough to keep it running. That friend of mine who died? His body and pokemon were never found. The League is tra-"

"-Trafficking pokemon, and human organs?" I cut him off.

Brock turned back to the river, "Yeah."

"Using tyrannical tactics to stop themselves from becoming tyrants, how ironic," I laughed bitterly.

The conversation was halted by the view of the sunset radiating across the river and horizon. It was a surprisingly appropriate match to the atmosphere; it reminded me of the beauty I wanted to protect.

We sat in silence for a long minute before I spoke, "How do we stop them without ruining the balance?"

"We make a new one. The League itself isn't completely corrupt yet, I suspect the trafficking will stop if they get a higher income, or lose the need of such a cost in the first place. We need to put a new balance in place, one that doesn't run off of the League."

"Just add another power."

Brock turned to me with a questioning gaze, "What?"

"You have a weaker power, the League, and a stronger power, the trainers. The trainers, despite having more power, are only organized enough to form a defence to keep the League in check, not for an offence. All you need now is a regulator. An even weaker power unknown to the other two that keeps them from becoming too powerful."

Brock rolled his eyes, "And if the unknown power becomes known? Or builds up its own power?"

I frowned, "It might need a little ironing..."

Brock turned to the river once more. We didn't speak a single word as the sun finished its trek. With darkness filling the night, I left Brock to his thoughts, and went to find my previous stump to compile and organize the notes I had been taking. This would have been finished earlier, but with Brock's realizations, the visit to Flint's, and our conversation, I hadn't had the time to do so.

Notes

Pokemon Aura:

From what I can tell, 'pokemon moves' are simply different uses of aura. This would imply possible changes to the moves and possibly move creation, but it would take a lot of learning about aura manipulation. Maybe I can utilize their instinctual knowledge?

Misty:

She is quite the anomaly. Her girly attitude has stayed consistent over the past couple weeks, but it still puts me on edge. It just feels...forced. I am starting to doubt my theory of triggering some sort of traumatic event, I can't imagine a change would last this long. This leads to believe her change may have something to do with aura, similar to my change 5 years ago. Perhaps the aura guardians plan to use her as well?

Cerulean City:

Considering Misty's change, I am quite concerned as to what Cerulean City is like, and Oak has yet to contact me with information. I am curious as to how the city will react to Misty's new changes though. According to her, the City made her a pariah due to her sister's popularity. Whatever happens, it's sure to be interesting.

"Geeze, a couple weeks into my journey, and it's already hectic. Well, Cerulean comes next! Wait, there's a mountain in the way. ...Son of a-!"