Most children are average.
It is a truth parents are often unwilling to acknowledge. In their hearts, their child is the most special, most wonderful creature to ever grace the planet with its existence.
As a teacher in Celestic Town's trainer school, Elizabeth was very familiar with that mindset. She often wished she could say what she really thought in parent-teacher meetings.
For example: "Your daughter Mara is thoroughly mediocre. There's nothing wrong with that. You should stop pushing for her to be in advanced placement classes. She doesn't have what it takes, and you'll just make her anxious and depressed for no reason. Just be happy you have a normal healthy kid."
Or: "Your son Alex is not misunderstood or intellectually unstimulated, he's just kind of a brat. You got him evaluated by ten different specialists who all told you he's neither gifted nor neurodivergent. Please stop making excuses for his behavior and just get him to do his homework for once."
Of course, once in a while, a child turns out to really be exceptional. And that, while wonderful in itself, can be an even bigger headache: both for the child's teachers and, even more so, the parents. Elizabeth had tutored a few exceptional students throughout her career; but nothing she had experienced as an educator could have prepared her for parenting the tornado that was her eldest daughter, Cynthia.
At two years old, little Cynthia was listening enraptured to her grandmother's stories about Sinnoh's myths and history. This grandmother, Carolina, was Elizabeth's mother-in-law: the mother of her husband Jack. She was also a professor with a specialization in Pokemon history and mythology, and a respected figure in Celestic Town. She was very fond of her granddaughter and spent a lot of time reading to her. Elizabeth approved of this: it was good to read and talk to kids, even if they couldn't always understand the substance of what was being said. She noticed, however, that little Cynthia listened far more attentively to Carolina's complicated tales than to Elizabeth's simpler, child-friendly stories.
At three years old, Cynthia was picking up her grandmother's journals and staring at them intently, as if trying to decipher what they were saying. Carolina offered to teach her granddaughter to read. The parents were hesitant, thinking it was premature. Neither actively discouraged it, however.
At four – whether by her grandmother's instruction, her own inherent intelligence, or a combination of both – Cynthia was reading proficiently. She accepted the colored books her parents bought for her, but seemed eager for something more interesting. One day, when Cynthia was about four and a half, one of Carolina's history journals disappeared. Carolina shrugged it off, thinking she must have misplaced it somewhere in the chaos of her office. But after about a week, Cynthia returned the journal to her intrigued grandmother and politely said that the information on the Lake Guardians was very interesting and she would like to read more about it, please.
By that point, the family had considered enrolling Cynthia to school early. However, the parents had decided against it, concerned that it would negatively affect her social development.
At five, they did enroll her to trainer school, and that was where any pretense of normalcy had to be given up. Within a year, little Cynthia was dominating the oldest students at both battling simulations and practice battles with rental Pokemon. Within another year, she was beating her teachers. She had been placed in a different classroom than the one Elizabeth was teaching, to avoid the appearance of favoritism. It ended up not mattering at all. Most of her teachers had given up trying to teach her anything and simply allowed her to read Carolina's tomes in their classes, or do whatever else she liked.
At seven, Cynthia's parents withdrew her from trainer school, taking up Carolina's offer to homeschool her at a more suitable pace. Grandmother and granddaughter shared a very close bond, understanding each other extremely well. Elizabeth was even a little jealous, despite having a good relationship with her mother-in-law and her own loving bond with her daughter.
At nine, Cynthia received her first partner Pokemon. She'd been begging for one for a while, but her parents had been hesitant. The recommended age was ten, and they didn't want to stray too far from that. A Pokemon was a big responsibility. Being gifted at battling was one thing; caring for a living creature was quite another. Additionally, they had a second daughter who, while a bright kid in her own right, struggled at anything Pokemon-related, and already felt overshadowed by her sister's effortless mastery of the subject.
Carolina thought the parents were being too cautious, but nevertheless deferred to their judgment. She promised her granddaughter that, if she had patience, grandma would advocate for her to get something really special as her first Pokemon. Elizabeth didn't object to that on principle. She just thought a Gible was perhaps a little too special.
"Please, mom?" Two bright gray eyes looked at her imploringly. "I promise I'll take really good care of it."
"Sweetie, I have no doubt you mean that but it might turn out to be more difficult than you think. A Gible is a very demanding starter. We have to think about the trouble your grandmother would go through to get one –"
"Oh, it's no trouble at all", Carolina said unhelpfully. "My job has all sorts of interesting perks, you see. A colleague of mine came in possession of some dragon eggs recently, and would be quite happy to part with one. They will probably go to an aspiring trainer anyway, so we might as well keep one."
Elizabeth looked to her husband for help, but he just shrugged uncertainly. Thanks, Jack.
"I've read all about the Gible line", Cynthia pressed. "And I have to get a Pokemon at some point anyway."
"I would be happy to help as well", Carolina added.
"Yes, but…" Elizabeth mentally went through her list of objections. She settled on the first one that came to mind. "Gibles bite."
"So do puppies", Cynthia said reasonably. "If it helps, you can think of a Gible as a puppy that just looks a little different."
In the end, Elizabeth could not withstand the combined might of Cynthia and Carolina. The egg arrived at their house in an unassuming protective carrier. Cynthia immediately decided that the egg was her child and acted accordingly. She slept with it, carried it everywhere, and wouldn't let anyone else touch it or look at it wrong.
Finally, it hatched into a healthy female Gible. Cynthia named it Gaia, a name she had found in one of her books.
Gaia had a hearty appetite and, independently, liked to bite things for the sake of it. However, things went overall better than Elizabeth had feared. Cynthia took her responsibility as caretaker very seriously, and spent a lot of time housetraining and socializing her Pokemon. The biting habit was soon redirected to appropriate outlets. The living room furniture only needed to be replaced once. Gaia was very protective of Cynthia, but otherwise quite friendly once you got to know her.
Cynthia's second Pokemon was a Togepi. This was actually Elizabeth's contribution: one of her friends, who worked as a breeder, had ended up with a spare egg. After only a few days in their house, the egg hatched into a male Togepi that Cynthia promptly fell in love with. She named him Oberon. Elizabeth hoped that Oberon would help redirect her daughter towards more house-friendly Pokemon.
It backfired, badly.
Oberon was an adorable menace. He had Moonblast as an egg move, and it was somehow absurdly strong. Cynthia did her best, but Oberon often got excited and could not control his own developing power. He was constantly wobbling around on his little stubby legs and cutely blowing things up by accident. Afterwards, he would burst into tears and you needed to console him because the explosions scared him. Cynthia adored him and thought he had never done anything wrong in his life.
Elizabeth had been somewhat concerned that Gaia would try to eat Oberon, but Gaia did no such thing. She was a responsible and protective older sister, chasing Oberon around and trying to stop him from getting hurt as well as curb his general propensity for destruction.
However, Cynthia's third Pokemon was when things really got interesting.
Cynthia was then twelve years old. She had just returned from a field trip around Sinnoh her grandmother had taken her on. They were both acting a little weird. Carolina dropped Cynthia off and left in a hurry, saying she had things to do. Cynthia was uncharacteristically quiet and answered her parents' questions about her trip with monosyllables. That was really strange for her. Elizabeth had expected the usual nerdy monologues about the obscure history of every random stone Cynthia had encountered in her trip.
It all became clear at dinner. Cynthia told her parents and sister she had something important to share. She had made her first catch, and she was hoping they would welcome the new Pokemon into the family.
Elizabeth and Jack exchanged a glance. "That's great, sweetie", Jack said encouragingly. "What kind of Pokemon is it?"
Cynthia hesitated, which was very unusual. "It's a rather special Pokemon", she finally said. "Please be nice. They've been isolated for a really long time."
"It's not fair that Cynthia gets all these Pokemon", little Cecilia interjected before Elizabeth could ask what that meant. "You won't even let me get a Buneary."
Elizabeth sighed. "Honey, you know the trainer school recommended you wait a bit longer. You need to learn how to be responsible for a Pokemon before you get one." Her younger daughter was now ten, but still lagged behind at subjects related to Pokemon care. She was sensitive about it, and somewhat resented the perceived favoritism her sister received.
"I can be responsible!"
"Ceci, when your teachers say you're ready for a Pokemon I'll help you catch a Buneary", Cynthia offered. The diplomacy worked, at least temporarily. Cecilia nodded, pacified, and turned her attention back to her plate. Elizabeth gave her eldest an appreciative smile before getting back to the original point.
"What do you mean, isolated? Was there abuse?"
"Um… not exactly. Although I suppose it depends on how you look at it… "
"Well, why don't you let it out", Jack suggested.
Cynthia took a breath. "Okay."
She took out an unassuming pokeball and laid it on the table. It shook one and then opened, releasing the Pokemon within.
The first thing that materialized was a stone: a trapezoid, light-grayish stone. Elizabeth had no time to make out any details before a purple mass spurted out of it. The mass writhed and twirled before settling into a quasi-circular shape with pointed edges at regular intervals. Glowing yellow-green orbs materialized on its surface. At the center of the mass, an uncanny smile took shape; and over the smile, a single eye opened.
Little Cecilia screeched and jumped from her chair, running off to the other side of the room.
"Ceci, don't be rude", Cynthia chided. "You're hurting their feelings."
"It's a foul demon!"
"Technically it's an amalgamation of sealed spirits", Cynthia explained. "Their name is Spiritomb."
Elizabeth looked at the blob. The blob looked back.
"Good evening, madam", the amalgamation of sealed spirits said politely.
"Gaah!" Elizabeth almost fell off her chair. The greeting had echoed inside her brain: it had sounded like a choir, the harmonious merging of a multitude of different voices. "It speaks?"
"We do, indeed, speak." It sounded a little hurt at the skepticism.
"Spiritomb can communicate telepathically", Cynthia provided. "Convenient, isn't it?"
"That's really weird", Cecilia said.
"It is simply a different way of communication", Spiritomb said haughtily. "And we would prefer to be addressed with dignity and respect."
Ceci, seemingly over her initial fear, stuck out her tongue. "Fine. Whatever you say, slimy blob. How's that?"
"Better. 'Slimy blob' is still rude, but it's better than 'foul demon'. We would strongly prefer to be called by our proper name, however."
Elizabeth cleared her throat. "And who, may I ask, is 'we'?"
"There's one hundred and eight of us", Spiritomb explained. "We have been sealed in this stone for five hundred years."
Before Elizabeth could figure out an appropriate response to that, her younger daughter let out a cry of protest. "You're letting Cynthia keep one hundred and eight pet demons?"
Cynthia sighed. "I told you, they're spirits."
"It's not fair! First land sharks, now pet demons. You wouldn't even let me keep one pet demon! Do you even love me at all?"
"Honey, we love you just as much as Cynthia", Jack said soothingly. "When you get your starter, you can also go on a trip and catch your own pet demons."
"For the last time, they're not pet demons", Cynthia said impatiently. "They're spirits."
Elizabeth rubbed her temples. "May I ask how these spirits ended up in a stone?"
"Of course!" Cynthia replied cheerfully. "According to lore, a traveler sealed them away to prevent them from causing mischief."
"What kind of mischief?" Elizabeth asked suspiciously.
Cynthia shrugged noncommittally.
"Where did you find out about all that stuff?" Jack asked.
"The library", Cynthia said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You know, the one in Canalave? It's really something. It's huge, full of such amazing books on Sinnoh's myths and legends." Her eyes shone with excitement as she spoke. "Of course, you can't take the stories at face value, but I like to think they often hold a core of truth. That's where I learned how to find Spiritomb. And, did you know? There are records of older Spiritomb. Some dating as far back as the Hisui period. But their existence seems to have been forgotten, buried in myth."
"Until you dug it out", Jack remarked, sounding slightly awed.
Cynthia simply smirked.
"Does your grandmother know all this?"
"Of course. She was really excited about it, too. But she promised to keep it a secret for now. She says Spirotomb will give me an edge in battle. No one knows what it is, you see."
"Hold up", Elizabeth said. "You said there are multiple Spiritomb. But you also said that this Spiritomb was created when a traveller sealed one hundred and eight troublesome spirits. So how are there multiple of them?"
"It's rather unclear", Cynthia said.
"Well, can't you ask them about it?" Jack suggested.
"And about that mischief they were sealed for", Elizabeth muttered.
"They don't like to talk about their past", Cynthia said, a little reproachfully. "It's a sensitive subject, you see. Imagine if you were imprisoned in stone for five hundred years. Would you like it if people prodded you about it?"
"Honey, no one wants to be rude to your… um.. friend. We are just a little concerned that –"
Elizabeth stopped abruptly. Oberon had climbed up the table and walked in front of Spiritomb, looking at them curiously.
"Prii?"
Spiritomb returned the look. Then, in an instant, its single eye disappeared. Oberon watched with great interest as the purple face remained motionless and blind. And then, suddenly, the eye reappeared and winked.
Oberon burst into laughter.
"Prii! Prii! Toge toge prii!" Oberon jumped on Spiritomb's face and sat on one of the protrusions. Spiritomb gently turned their face around like it was a ferris wheel, with Oberon happily jumping up and down on his "seat" and somehow not falling.
"We assure you, we have no wish to cause trouble, madam", Spiritomb told Elizabeth after the ride ended; Oberon jumped down and ran to Cynthia's arms, enthusiastically chirping to her about all the fun he'd just had. "We only wish for a comfortable home and human companionship."
And so, Spiritomb stayed. It was, perhaps, an odd arrangement, but turned out to be not altogether unpleasant. Spiritomb was a caring babysitter to Oberon and liked to goof around with Gaia. They did not cause horrific nightmares or eat anyone's soul – the stone was probably already too crowded, anyway. Cynthia started doing some light training in preparation for the journey, and that went rather well. Nobody got hurt, and the house only needed to be repaired once.
Eventually, the day came for Cynthia to start her journey proper. Elizabeth found herself already missing her daughter and the chaos she brought to the household. But like every caring parent of an aspiring new trainer, she put on a brave smile and bid her daughter goodbye as the latter promised to take care of herself and keep in touch.
And even though truly exceptional children were rare, Elizabeth knew that her assessment of her daughter's abilities was based on something more than maternal bias.
My little girl is destined for greatness, she thought to herself, fondly looking at Cynthia making her way through the open path. Or insanity, depending on how things turn out.