Ch3
Pokédex Entry (Ruby): "Shelgon forms a steel-hard shell. When it's about to evolve, it sheds the shell and becomes much more active."
Shelgon adjusted to his new form, but it wasn't without its challenges. His body, now covered in a thick, protective shell, was much heavier than when he was a Bagon. At first, the weight made everything slower. Every step felt like dragging boulders, and his once nimble movements were now cumbersome and awkward. The battles that had once been easier now took more energy to fight, and Shelgon couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious about his newfound sluggishness.
One afternoon, as they traveled down a winding mountain path, Brendan noticed the way Shelgon lagged behind. Normally, they would march side by side, but now, Shelgon struggled to keep up. Brendan slowed his pace and gave his Pokémon a reassuring smile. "Hey, you doing alright back there?"
Shelgon grunted in response, embarrassed by his lack of speed. He didn't feel like the strong Pokémon Brendan needed—not yet, at least.
Brendan crouched down next to Shelgon, resting a hand on the smooth surface of his shell. "I know it's tough," Brendan said softly. "You're not as fast as you used to be, and I can see you're feeling a little down about that."
Shelgon's gaze lowered, the familiar weight of doubt creeping into his thoughts. Would he ever be strong enough? Could he become the Salamence that soared through the sky like he had always dreamed?
"But you're still amazing," Brendan continued, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You've come so far. Remember when you were a little Bagon, scared to jump off cliffs? Look at you now. You're tougher, stronger, and evolving wasn't easy. This new shell of yours? It's proof of how far you've come."
Shelgon looked up at his trainer, feeling a flicker of hope. Brendan's words were like a balm to his worries.
"You might not be able to move as fast right now," Brendan said, "but that's just part of the journey. And I'm here to help you—every step of the way. One day, you will fly, Shelgon. I'm sure of it."
The reassurance in Brendan's voice, the unwavering belief he had in Shelgon, made something click inside the Pokémon. He remembered the countless times Brendan had supported him, the battles they had won together, and the leaps of faith—literal and metaphorical—he had taken under his trainer's guidance.
Shelgon let out a low, determined growl. He wasn't going to let this new form slow him down. He had worked too hard to stop now. Brendan believed in him, and that belief gave him the strength to keep moving forward.
"Atta boy," Brendan said with a grin. "Let's take it one step at a time. We'll keep training, and you'll get used to this new form. You're still growing, and that's okay."
As they continued their journey, Shelgon's determination only grew stronger. Every day, they trained—running through forests, battling wild Pokémon, and continuing the cliff-jumping exercises that Shelgon loved so much. Slowly, Shelgon became more comfortable in his new body. His movements, though still not as swift as they had once been, were becoming more deliberate, more powerful.
Brendan was always there, by his side, offering encouragement and advice. "You're doing great, Shelgon," he would say after every training session, and Shelgon would feel that same flicker of hope growing inside him.
With each passing day, the dream of flight didn't seem so far off. Though he was still grounded for now, Shelgon knew that with Brendan's guidance, he would eventually take to the skies. And when that day came, he would be ready—not just for himself, but for the trainer who had believed in him from the very beginning.
