Reality Unbound
A Pokemon Universe Fan Fiction
By Tonkinese Cat
"I can accept the idea of my own demise, but I am unable to accept the death of anyone else."
-Maya Angelou
The blustery autumn winds made his eyes water as he soared through the skies above Hammerlocke. Squinting his eyes, Joe found his landing spot. A nice field of green not far from the castle walls that cradled the city. He hadn't been back in Galar in ten years, let alone this glorious city… but finally, he was home.
"Just down here on this green," Joe said calmly to the Pidgeot he was riding. She cooed dutifully and began her descent. The city zoomed closer and closer until, a little quicker than he had expected, they were on the ground. Pidgeot landed comfortably and leaned to one side to allow Joe a simple descent from her back. Joe slid down and touched his feet on the ground. Nearby on the same green, a couple of Corviknight taxis landed.
"Thanks a lot, Fiona."
Pidgeot cooed again as Joe scratched her. He opened his pokeball and the red light absorbed the large bird, closing up afterwards to rest in Joe's hand.
Ten years and yet it was as if nothing much had changed. The nostalgia hit him like a dose of adrenaline. He was suddenly giddy; he was home.
His parents had since moved to Wyndon and he had visited them there, so this wasn't about seeing his family. This was about old times, when being a Pokemon Trainer felt like the dream life, where adventuring to all the different regions of the world was an endless adventure.
Turns out, it wasn't.
Sure, there were regions he'd never visited. He'd only actually travelled through Galar, Johto and Hoenn in his ten years as a trainer, but after a while, he lost the motivation to do it. It wasn't because he was bad at battling, he won quite a lot and had a strong team of Pokemon that had been with him for years. And it wasn't because he didn't have a challenge, because he almost lost to two of the Hoenn gym leaders due to his own carelessness.
No, it just wasn't fulfilling to him anymore. He still enjoyed battling. He still enjoyed the rush of earning a gym badge. And it was easy enough to make enough money to survive, so long as you kept winning battles. But these days it felt more like a hobby, than a career path. He had no interest in any longer becoming the World Champion. It was a cool idea, and if he wanted to, he could probably achieve it… but he just didn't want to.
No, now at the age of 26, he wanted to think about other career paths. He'd always liked the idea of being a professor of some kind, but he honestly didn't know if he even had the brains for it. Battling and raising Pokemon was all he knew. He'd also considered a job away from Pokemon… they were rare but they did exist. But no, it wasn't the Pokemon that bothered him. He loved being around Pokemon. They were majestic, intelligent creatures, even the ones that didn't look like it. How many people can spit out fire and read your mind?
The problem, he had figured, always led back to fulfilment. What would satisfy him now, if not winning badges and claiming the World Championship?
There was one thought that kept creeping into his consciousness, but that he kept sweeping it back under the rug, because it was childish and unrealistic.
After the fifth time of brushing it away, he got fed up with fighting it and let it flood his consciousness.
You could find Tandrag.
Tandrag, a fabled Pokemon that no-one has any proof exists, but that is part of Galarian legend as a great, red, fire-breathing dragon that protected Galar from evil foes in ancient times. Tandrag, that no-one actually believed was real, but that Joe himself had seen with his very own eyes, eight years ago for only a moment. The dragon-shaped castle that dominated the city of Hammerlocke was based on the legend of Tandrag.
He stopped himself from going back over the memory; it would only agitate him knowing that he would probably never see it again or that he could have imagined the whole thing.
Joe arrived in the busier and better lit streets, back-dropped by the gleaming Hammerlocke castle. It still amused Joe that they literally made a city from a castle—-not to mention the castle was shaped like a great, flying dragon—and he had never seen anything like it in all his journeys the past decade.
Nothing quite like home, he reminded himself.
Of course then the question came to him as he stepped through the doors of the Pokemon Centre. Where was home?
Technically, he didn't have one right now. His parents had moved away to Wyndon and he hadn't planned on moving back home until very recently. He would have to stay in a hotel until he could look at some houses to rent.
"Welcome to the Pokemon Centre. Would you like me to heal your Pokemon?" The nurse at the desk said, with a smile. She placed a tray on the counter with six empty holes for pokeballs.
"Please," Joe nodded, taking all his pokeballs from his belt and placing them on the tray.
"Take a ticket and a seat in the waiting area. We won't keep you too long."
"Thank you," Joe replied, pulled a ticket from the machine on the counter and took a seat in the waiting area.
Of course, there had been a catalyst to Joe returning home. An invitation; or as he saw it, an excuse to finally act on what he'd been trying to find the courage to do for months. He had just defeated Juan of Sootopolis to get the eighth badge of Hoenn. He had been planning, despite feeling less and less excited about it the closer he got to it, to compete in the Hoenn League Championships.
But the night before he was due to go register his place, a Noctowl flew down to his window with a letter. Joe pulled out that same letter from his pocket as he sat there, reading it over once again.
Joe,
Hey man, it's been a long time since I've seen you. I know what you're thinking. Why is he sending me this with a letter and a Noctowl? But I didn't want this to get leaked anywhere. I'm doing some work at the university and I was hoping I could speak to you about it. There may be some work in it for you. But we have to meet up in person, and it has to be within the next week. I can't really explain much more until we meet in person. If you are happy to, we can meet at Hammerlocke. We'll meet outside the gym, for old time's sake. Send a reply on the back of this letter for Noctowl, will you? I don't really want to stand outside the gym all week not knowing if you'll be showing up or not.
Hope you're doing well,
Ainsley Carter
Ainsley Carter; it was a name Joe hadn't seen or heard from in at least six or seven years. He had been Joe's travel buddy all through his journey in Galar and even followed Joe to Johto. But after they had been in Johto a month, Ainsley received some bad news about his father and had to go home. They had said we'd keep in touch, but it was hard to do when Joe was moving around like he was. Joe didn't feel like bragging about what he was doing while Ainsley was watching his father die, so he decided it better not to pry. When Ainsley contacted him a year later to let him know that his father had died, Joe was supportive and asked if there was anything he could do. There wasn't, which Joe had expected, but he still sent a donation to his father's funeral costs anyway. It wasn't much, but it was his way of trying to help. After that, they both got on with their lives and didn't really talk anymore; not out of any animosity, but just out of pure distance.
So when Joe, who had been struggling with his decision whether to go ahead and sign up for the Hoenn League Tournament, received this letter, it was the push he needed. He wrote back saying he would be there in two days. He then fed Noctowl a berry, and sent it on its way.
Now, he was here. Back home.
His mind raced with the possibilities of what Ainsley could want to discuss with him. And he mentioned a job. It gave Joe enough unanswered questions that he definitely would want to be there. He figured Ainsley probably knew this all too well and used it against him; and he didn't care.
"Number twelve," the nurse called and seeing the matching number on his ticket, Joe stood up and headed over, gathering his pokeballs and attached them back to his belt.
"Brilliant, thanks."
"No problem. We hope to see you again!"
"One thing," Joe asked, leaning in, "I haven't been here for a few years. Where is the best place to find a hotel on short notice?"
"Hmm... you're probably best going down Barrack Avenue into the Bell District. There's a bunch of hotels there for tourists."
"Thank you, again." Joe smiled and headed back out into the streets.
Barrack Avenue was south from here and his proposed meeting point with Ainsley, the gym, was in the same direction, so he decided to head that way. Less than five minutes later, crossing a couple of drawbridges over canals along the way, the entrance to the Hammerlocke Gym, a large, square stone arch leading to the stadium, stood tall and gleaming in the sunlight.
It had been years since he had seen Ainsley Carter but he recognised him instantly. The same messy, curly dark hair. The same square spectacles and flat chin. He was taller, a little more muscular, but still the same guy. He wore a full-on suit and tie too, which made Joe feel under dressed, in his jeans and hoodie.
"Ainsley Carter," Joe greeted him, stretching his hand out.
"Josiah Norris, in the flesh," Ainsley grinned, "I mean it was a long shot when I sent that letter out. Honestly, I didn't expect you to reply."
"Of course I'd reply. You're good people, Ainsley. But life got busy I guess, so it's been a while."
"Yeah, it has," Ainsley agreed, letting go of the handshake, "Right, shall we go to the battle cafe?"
"Alright, fine…" Joe agreed, "But spectator only. I'm not in the mood for battles during my starter tonight."
Ainsley chuckled in agreement. Ten minutes later, they arrived and found seats inside the spectator section of the Battle Cafe. All around them was the aroma of good food and the bustle of chat and cheering. In the distance, out in the gardens, Joe heard cheers and jeers from the close up spectators of a battle.
"So, how have you been, man?" Ainsley asked, slapping Joe's arm playfully, "I haven't heard from you properly in what, five years?"
"If not, longer," Joe replied.
"So, what? What's your story?"
"I'm sure you followed the leagues," Joe said, dismissively.
"I mean, I read the headlines but not really, man. After my dad passed, I just didn't want to invest in it anymore. It was like a reminder of what I wasn't doing. I dived into my work at Circhester University instead. That's worked out well for me. So, how did your journey as a trainer go? Tell me everything!"
"Well, the closest I came to eternal glory was reaching the semi final of the Johto League Tournament. I lost to David Axel."
"He won that year, didn't he?" Ainsley asked.
"Thanks for the reminder," Joe replied with a wry grin.
"Ha ha, sorry," Ainsley said, "That was like six years ago. What have you done since?"
"I won the Hoenn badges."
"And how did you do in that tournament?"
"Never had a chance to compete. I only got the last badge two days ago," Joe replied.
Ainsley frowned.
"I'm confused. What are you doing here then? Don't they usually register people around this time of year?"
"Yeah, registration was yesterday. I came here instead," Joe explained.
Ainsley's face bore an odd expression. Confusion? Disbelief?
"Well, why did you go and do that? And speaking of which, I remember how you tore through Galar's gyms. How'd it take you six years to get Hoenn done?"
Joe shrugged, "I think you probably just answered your own questions. My heart just isn't in it anymore."
Joe sighed.
"It's not really a bad thing. I like battling, but it's not my life. It is for some people and that's cool. But I'm ready for something different. Something… real. I'm not gonna lie, your letter was kind of a blessing. I was thinking of heading home anyway and you gave me the push I needed."
Ainsley absorbed this new information.
"Well, I guess if it wasn't making you happy," he said, "then you did the right thing."
"So, what is this all about?" Joe asked, deciding there was enough small talk on his side that he could begin asking real questions.
"Well, it's complicated. A lot to explain. And sensitive information. We're not worried about spies or anything, we're just not shouting about it," Ainsley explained.
"OK, well… maybe start with telling me what you can tell me so I'm not sitting here clueless."
"To be fair, man… that's a pretty standard look for you," Ainsley quipped back.
They exchanged smirks.
"Alright, so I studied at Circhester University a year after I came home. I spent six years there gaining my degrees and now I'm heading up a secret organisation within the university to study unexplained phenomena."
"Sounds interesting… but I'm no scientist, Ainsley. So where do I come in?"
"I can't give you too much information yet. It's one of those, agree first, ask questions later type deals. Sorry but I'm under strict instructions. I can tell you this though: we need veteran trainers for the team, and people we can trust. That's mainly why I thought of you."
"And what will you need me for?"
"Assist us, protect us if needed. And I'm sure your Pokemon have many useful abilities. How is Morty, anyway?"
Joe chuckled, "He's a big old Kingler now."
"It still makes me laugh that you give your Pokemon people names."
"I dunno… superhero names get a little boring after a while. Sometimes a Pokemon is just a Jimmy."
Ainsley opened his mouth in delighted awe.
"Please tell me you have a Pokemon called Jimmy," he asked,
"Of course I do," Joe grinned, "Toxapex. He can be a bit toxic at times."
"Har, har," Ainsley replied, unamused.
"Is there anything else you can tell me?" Joe asked.
Thinking about what Ainsley had actually said; they needed veteran trainers to help them investigate unexplained phenomena. That was both extremely vague and somewhat eerie. But it also meant Joe really had no idea what he was considering signing up for.
"I'm afraid I've given you all the information I can," Ainsley said, "But look.. I don't expect an instant reply. Have a think about it. I have to go back to Circhester tonight, but I'm back in Hammerlocke in two days. If you're interested, meet me here at 5pm then."
Joe considered Ainsley. He didn't feel deceived or manipulated by the old friend but he certainly knew that Ainsley was keeping something, and something big, from him. He trusted Ainsley; but he also knew that whatever this was, there was undoubtedly a real element of danger involved.
"Alright, I'll consider it," Joe said.
Joe had expected something of a reuniting nostalgia trip as they spent the hours remembering old times but Ainsley informed him shortly after that he would have to leave due to his aforementioned business in Circhester.
"Remember," he said, as he stepped away from the table, "5pm, here, day after tomorrow."
And before Joe knew it, he was gone.
Joe looked at his watch; it was barely 4pm. He had expected Ainsley to take up much more of his time. Instead, he left the cafe and headed towards the tourist hotels. Booking a room, he headed back out. It was far too early to call it a day, especially on his first night back home in so long. But what could he do? He'd lost contact with anyone who he had really been friends with before he left for his journey.
There was only one thing for it; it was time to visit the wild area.