Chapter 43 (Updated) (Patreon)

Sam went to bed early after the Azalea Gym Trial. The fight had been exhausting, his team needed rest, and he had other plans for that night as well. Sleep came easily enough, as practically everyone crashed the moment they touched the Pokémon Center’s fluffy bed.

He awoke, hours later and in a daze, when something pointed jabbed into his side. His eyes snapped open, and he was met with a cheshire grin and a glowing red gaze. Haunter cackled when Sam jerked back, as he almost fell to the floor. But, rather than getting annoyed, Sam was thankful. The scare had been effective enough that he was unlikely to go back to sleep anytime soon.

“Alright, everyone!” Sam clapped his hands. “It’s the witching hour, like we planned! Time to wake up!”

Haunter assisted Sam’s efforts with a wail that echoed around the room far more than it should have. That was enough to stir Mankey, who grumbled and rolled to face away on his side. As for Quilava, she groggily smacked her lips and tried to sit up. Unfortunately, all she managed to do was collapse back into a pile.

Sam carefully took her, placing the limp Fire Type around the back of his neck.

“Sorry, but we did all agree on this, remember? Haunter wanted to do this as part of his reward for holding off all those Butterfree.”

Quilava whined—why couldn’t her reward for the Beedrill be to sleep in? Mankey made a noise that he wanted the same.

“You can sleep in later this morning,” Sam answered. “I want to do this as a team. Doesn’t it sound cool to explore the town at night?”

Two sets of shared groans. Both of them kept their eyes closed, but Mankey sat up, and Quilava rubbed her face to keep herself awake.

Sam got ready as fast as he could. He threw on a jacket, made sure his stuff was packed in his backpack just in case, and fixed his hair so it wouldn’t be so messy. The only light in the room was a standing lamp that gave everything a dull orange glow. Outside, it was almost pitch black. Azalea might have had street lights, but they were few and far between.

Eventually, Quilava managed to wake herself up enough to actually keep her eyes open. Mankey, meanwhile, only became fully awake when he accidentally rolled off the bed.

Both of them got a midnight snack-slash-breakfast from Sam—Chesto Berries he had purchased specifically for this moment. The berries’ strong, dry flavor helped them wake up, and they were left blinking, full of energy, afterwards.

“Our plan is to head out and see what the city is like at night,” Sam said, cleaning up the remnants of everyone’s meals. “Towns as old as this one should have a few real ghosts, but Azalea’s also pretty small with a dedicated Gym. I doubt there's anything we’ll need to worry about, instead, imagine how many Ghost Types might be out there! Haunter, you’re pretty confident a Ghost Type or two will be around, yeah?”

Haunter nodded excitedly, giving Sam a thumb’s up.

Tonight, there would be no catching, only quiet observation. Where the New Pokédex was an incredible resource for in-battle capabilities, it had little on the behavior of species outside of fights. Sam wanted to see how Ghost Type Pokémon behaved in the wild. He’d be a silent observer, joining Haunter to watch Pokémon go about their night-to-night lives.

This late at night, Haunter had no need to enter Sam’s shadow, content to merely float at his side. Mankey, meanwhile, ambled over to walk next to Sam. He went through a few stretches to make sure he was awake. As for Quilava, she let out a quiet whine next to Sam’s ear. Given she was no longer a small Cyndaquil, she couldn’t exactly fit in his hood.

At least, staying on his neck was similar enough, and the position still let her rest her head on his shoulder.

“Ready, everyone?”

Haunter cheered his name in excitement. The rest of his team made noises to state their readiness, but they were nowhere near as happy.

Sam left his room, entering a silent hallway, then left the Pokémon Center to step outside. There, the cool night’s air caressed his face as countless stars decorated the night sky. There were more visible here than from other settlements Sam had been to, as while Azalea Town had modern amenities, there weren’t enough to cause too much light pollution. There was something about seeing that view while also being surrounded by old buildings that made the night feel that much more beautiful.

Haunter took the lead, and Sam followed. He made sure to not say anything to not disturb the silent peace of the night. The roads in the center of the city were stone, but moving towards the edges, dirt and gravel paths became more frequent. Each footstep audibly crunched against them, yet Haunter was familiar enough with night exploration to make sure they didn’t bother the species active at this time.

Murkrow were the most common species Sam saw, as they were practically omnipresent during Johto’s nights. The black crow Pokémon used their dark feathers to blend in with shadows while they eyed the ground for shiny objects to add to their collections. Besides them, there were also Spinarak and Ariados that crawled over and into many nearby buildings. Sam wasn’t sure if they were hunting, looking for a place to nest, or patrolling on behalf of the local Bug Type Gym.

But the species that caught Sam’s eye the most came into view towards the end of the witching hour. Haunter waved for Sam to stop and held a finger over his mouth before pointing up at the sky. There, illuminated by the moonlight, was a train of Gastly passing over the town. Sharp eyes glowed in the darkness, and Haunter waved a greeting as they floated past.

If Sam had to guess, this was the time of night they were the most active, going around and looking for people and Pokémon to scare.

Though, Sam had the feeling those Gastly weren’t the only Ghost Types about. Sometimes, something would flicker at the edge of his vision, but whenever Sam looked, nothing was there. There was no chill in the air, and the hair on the back of his neck wasn’t standing up, but he couldn’t help but to feel like he was followed. While he observed, he was being observed back, though he had no way to tell what watched him as he wandered through town.

During this period, he also made sure to stop at the Slowpoke Well, mostly to check if the nurse had carried Sam’s message about protecting the place. To his surprise, the area around the well had almost completely changed. Several full grown evergreen trees now surrounded it like a grove. Looking closely, he could see the moonlight glinting off the compound eyes of a few different Bug Types. The local Gym had stepped in and placed guards as needed.

It was a big relief to see that. Sam’s promise would be fulfilled.

“Thank you for this, Haunter,” Sam said when the witching hour was at its end. Active species were becoming more rare, and it seemed that these nocturnal Pokémon had an innate sense of when night was at its deepest. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d never think to explore a city so late. It’s really amazing to see just how many Pokémon are out and about without any humans to bother them.”

Haunter smiled proudly. He had enjoyed this, too. Next time they came out this late, Sam wanted to bring some berries with him so he could lure wild Pokémon closer and hopefully have a chat.

But this was still an hour of walking in the cold night’s air during a time when everyone was usually asleep. Quilava had greatly enjoyed this as well, but Mankey had to hold the leg of Sam’s pants to not lose track of him in the darkness. For him, he was more about battling. Walking around and watching other Pokémon was boring. He was already ready to go back to sleep.

In an attempt to stay up, Mankey struck at the air with his hands. He tiredly tried to practice as the group headed back to the Pokémon Center.

As he was now, Mankey’s Type coverage was extreme. He knew Fire Punch, Ice Punch, Karate Chop, Cross Chop, and Assurance, and he slowly rotated through those attacks for practice. Yet, even though he knew so much, he was also trying to work on one last development—a brand new Ghost Type move would be a perfect addition to his arsenal and help him better fit with the rest of his team.

However, Mankey’s best and only offensive option for this purpose was Shadow Claw, which he tried to figure out by curling up his fingers and swiping at the air. He needed to channel Ghost Type energy into his hand to use the attack, but he also needed to figure out how to actually control Ghost Type energy, first.

From Sam’s shoulder, Quilava occasionally squeaked out advice to him, able to do so thanks to all her practice with Curse. Haunter chipped in with advice as well, but from the sharp looks Mankey sent the Ghost Type, Sam could tell that Haunter wasn’t being entirely serious about it.

“Redi told me she wants Teddiursa to evolve soon,” Sam idly commented as they slowly walked back. “I think she’s aiming for an evolution around the time we reach Violet City, which’ll be our fifth Gym, and her fourth. At the same time, she also talked about visiting Azalea Town’s power station. Porygon needs to figure out Electric Type moves, and Teddiursa won’t be trying for evolution until he figures out Thunderpunch, too.”

Both Mankey and Teddiursa were due to learn that Electric Type attack, but Redi’s priority was to have Porygon learn how to utilize electricity, first. Teddiursa was in a solid state thanks to the sheer power of Slash and his own wide Type coverage, but his evolution? Sam could tell that while Teddiursa had put in more work than other members of his species, becoming an Ursaring was still a while away.

He also had a theory that Teddiursa and Redi were delaying his evolution because they both enjoyed how small and cute he was, but Sam was smart enough to never say that out loud.

“If the rest of the team has evolved, you’re next,” Sam continued. “Becoming a Primeape is when your rage will really start to build, so we’ll be focusing on self-control pretty soon.”

Mankey grunted. His response was less enthused than Sam expected. When he glanced down, the monkey Pokémon was staring straight ahead. His expression was unreadable.

“We’ll make you strong,” Sam affirmed.

Mankey replied with a firm nod. His absolute faith in Sam’s training skills was obvious, and Sam refused to let his Pokémon down.

Meandering through Azalea, their little group continued along side paths to return to the Pokémon Center. However, when they reached the part of the city containing its shops, Sam was surprised to see an open door bleeding light onto the road.

An old building was still open, which was strange to see this late at night. A large plume of smoke poured out from a wide chimney. On the step outside the front was a familiar Pokémon—a duck-like Farfetch’d holding a leek under a wing. It stood at attention, like a soldier on guard.

The Pokémon stiffened and squawked its name as Sam made himself known from within the darkness. Mankey and Quilava remained either at his side or behind his neck, but Haunter zipped upwards to hide himself in the darkened night sky.

“Hey,” Sam greeted it, raising a hand. “You’re still up? Even after our Gym Trial yesterday.”

Farfetch’d said its name awkwardly. Then it said its name indignantly. It sent a nervous glance behind it, into the building. For some reason, the Flying Type almost looked worried.

While it was distracted, Sam sent a subtle shake of his head to Haunter, who had drifted behind the duck Pokémon’s head without it being aware. Annoyed, he clicked his tongue, and the Farfetch’d briefly snapped around but saw nothing—Haunter disappeared.

Sam stepped closer to the open door, remnant curiosity from his exploration fueling him forward.

“Mind if we go in?” he asked.

He could tell Farfetch’d would have probably turned him down if they hadn’t just won a war-like battle yesterday. However, it instead looked up at him with almost an expression of hope, stepping to the side to allow Sam to enter the shop.

Inside, he was greeted with rows of shelves filled with charcoal products.

Liquid inks, blocks of inks, bottles of powdered charcoal, and pitch-black dyes. The burned wood was being sold in all forms—broken up, clumped, or as solid sticks. In a few places, what seemed to be perfect cylinders of blackened wood sat in cubbies like a library of scrolls. Those pieces were priced the highest, and a counter divided an open workshop from the rest of the store.

A clay furnace sat in the center of the room, the source of the smoke Sam had seen before he came in. It had several openings, with a few of them completely sealed off. In front of one, a familiar, black-haired teen stared unerringly into the fire.

Several minutes passed without any acknowledgement that Sam was there. He was eventually forced to clear his throat, which caused the other boy to jump almost a full foot. The teen looked ready to scream, but when his eyes locked onto Sam, they lit up in recognition.

“It’s you!” he shouted.

“It’s me?” Sam asked.

“I— I never got to thank you yesterday! You disappeared so fast! If it weren’t for you, we would have lost the Gym! So, thank you!” He pulled his hands tight against his sides and stood up with a bow at ninety degrees. “You made sure we won our first Gym Trial!”

Sam awkwardly coughed into his hand, unable to look at how sincerely the older boy was thanking him.

“Do you— Do you need something? Trying to make a purchase?” the teen said, pulling himself up straight. “Sorry, but we’re closed! I was just... practicing.”

“Practicing,” Sam repeated.

The teen looked unsure of his own words. 

Looking closer, Sam started to notice more details on his face. There were bags under his eyes that made him look tired—and not just in the physical way.

“You alright?” Sam asked.

Sam watched the boy slap his cheeks, leaving handprints of dark dust on his face that he failed to realize were there.

“I’m fine! I’m perfectly fine!” he said all too quickly. “My family makes charcoal, and I wanted to make sure I had the technique down. We use it in a bunch of different products—which you can see, can’t you?”

He chuckled awkwardly.

“No, but their real use is—”

Eyes widening, the boy suddenly turned around and darted over to grab a set of metal tongs. He cursed under his breath as he shoved them into the furnace he had been staring into only a moment before.

A bit of fumbling, and a loud whoop left his mouth.

“Yes! It worked!”

A chunk of blackened wood—charcoal—left the oven via his tongs. He placed it on a nearby stone counter before smacking it lightly with a hammer. The noise the hit made resembled the ring of metal.

After a few seconds of walking around it and rotating it with a heavy glove, the boy blinked and looked back up at Sam.

“Ah! Uh, sorry about that. The real use of charcoal is as a held item. Only certain pieces are good enough to sell as something battle-rated, but they’re our most valuable product. Each one can increase the power of Fire Type moves by up to a fifth.”

Sam let out a whistle.

“Wow. So is the boost linear or proportional?”

“Linear or—” He furrowed his brow. “Proportional, I think? Dad advertises them as a ‘qualitative’ increase. Fifteen to twenty-five percent, depending on how well the piece came out. So I think its effect scales with the strength of a Pokémon. That’s proportional, right?”

Sam felt his eyebrows raise—he was genuinely impressed. He’d always known held items could increase the power of a Pokémon’s moves, like with Spell Tags and Ghost Types, but he hadn’t been told any specific numbers until now.

“And how much would one cost?”

He was already going over his budget in his mind.

“Here? We have a deal with the local Pokémart to sell them for us. I think they’re priced at around ten thousand?”

Sam wanted to choke.

“How much?” he wheezed.

“Nine-thousand eight hundred, specifically. I think,” the teen said. “But that’s only the price of our highest quality charcoal. You can get a less effective one for around three. Three-thousand, I mean.”

That doesn’t make it better!

Sam wanted to sit down. He’d always known being a Pokémon trainer was expensive, but that price was on a completely different level. Then again, a proportional boost that high was definitely enough to make the difference in any battle. He wouldn’t be surprised if trainers across the globe came here just to pick up a Charcoal for their Fire Types.

While Sam struggled to recover from the shock, the charcoal-maker glanced at Quilava, a small smile appearing on his face.

“I still don’t feel like I’ve thanked you enough. Wanna help me out? Test this piece out?”

“Yes!”

Sam jumped at the opportunity—both literally and figuratively—and the charcoal-maker boy laughed.

“Follow me outside,” he said.

Moving around the counter, Sam eagerly followed along as the boy opened a set of double-doors that wouldn’t be out of place in a barn. They connected to a walled-off backyard, where the ground was made of compacted dirt and where several pallets of wood were covered to store.

“Here. Have your Quilava hold this.”

Sam helped her off from his neck and placed her down. She carefully took the handed-over piece of charcoal in her front paws and stood up on her hind legs.

Using the charcoal like this in battle wouldn’t be too effective as Quilava moved best when running on all fours. However, there were specialized collars and bands trainers could purchase that gave Pokémon easy ways to hold items without necessitating hands.

But, since this was just a test, she held it in her paws and allowed her flames to spark up on both her head and lower spine. As a Quilava, her fire didn’t stretch down the entirety of her back. Instead, her flames gave her a flickering mohawk and tail.

She breathed in, and the center of the darkened wood began to glow. She then breathed out, and the glow increased to a steady burn. After taking a few seconds to get used to it, she finally turned her head up and unleashed an Incinerate aimed directly at the night sky.

It exploded—brilliantly. The attack was bright enough to briefly make it day. Mankey had to rub his eyes, blinded. Haunter had been hiding with a shadow against the building, but he was utterly revealed when the darkness was burned away.

“Wow,” Sam breathed. That attack had received a boost that was far more than a “meager” twenty-percent.

Quilava looked down at the item she held in her hands. Its bright glow continued to build and build and build until there was a loud crack. Everyone watched as it fell apart into ash in her hands.

“...Oh.”

Quilava looked absolutely mortified. The charcoal-maker looked sick. He was almost in shock.

“That’s...” He laughed to himself in numb disbelief. “It’s not your fault. I really thought I had it this time.”

In a daze, he walked over to a covered stack of wood and leaned against it, rubbing his head in pain.

“I guess this is why my dad says he doesn’t want me to take over the shop. Not good enough for him, huh?”

“Wait, he doesn’t?” Sam asked. “That was still impressive! I’m sure you can figure it out if you keep trying!”

“No, no. It’s not that. He says there are better things I can do.” The boy sighed. “He wants me to go on a journey. He wants me to see the world before I ‘dedicate myself to his craft.’”

Sam was silent. He didn’t have the personal experience to respond.

“Both of my parents are pushing for that, actually,” the boy continued, venting his feelings. “They want me to head out and see the region instead of continuing to try to learn about how our shop works. But I don’t want that! I want to stay here and learn how to manage the shop! I want to actually help!”

“...So is that why you took on the Gym Trial?” Sam asked. “Because your parents pushed you into it?”

It was unusual to take on a Gym with a single Pokémon so strong, but the other boy shrugged.

“Kind of. I guess the reason is pretty close. I actually went there by myself. I thought that if I succeeded, they’d get off my back. Now, they’re just pushing even harder.”

He chuckled morosely.

As they stood there in his backyard, a sudden quack rang out, and his Farfetch’d appeared in the door to the building. The duck Pokémon marched over to stand at the side of the boy, where it didn’t do anything, merely trying to support its trainer with its presence.

The teen smiled ever so slightly, but he still seemed upset about the situation.

“Okay, so I kind of don’t get it. If you’re eventually going to learn how to make charcoal anyway,  why don’t you head on a journey?” Sam asked.

“Are you kidding?” The teen snapped his head up, staring at Sam indignantly. “I have to practice! I can’t waste any time! I have to learn how to do what my father can do!”

Sam just rolled his eyes.

“Okay, sure, but how do you think your father got to where he is?” Sam asked. “Heck, I think my team’s getting pretty strong. How do you think I got to where I am?”

“What do you mean?”

Sam began to pace. From his own experience, he didn’t like the idea of someone tying themselves down to their family’s shop their whole life. There was an entire world to see! Things to experience!

He actually felt like he could help.

“You don’t get anywhere by sitting in one place, doing nothing,” he said. “You need experience. You have to go out and see things. I think I agree with your parents. Do you think I would have been able to fight in that Gym Trial if I stayed at home instead?”

“...No?”

Sam stopped, turning to face the boy. He was sitting up a bit straighter now, looking both confused and bewildered.

“Look, my mom owns a bookstore, but it’s my dream to become a proper Ghost Type specialist. I could have stayed there and read about Ghost Types all my life, but that would have just been knowledge. You need practical skills. Actual skills that you can use to further your dream. For you—”

“I make charcoal. What does that have to do with being a trainer?”

“Have you considered that you could catch a Fire Type?” Sam immediately replied.

The boy’s face flushed with embarrassment as Sam continued to explain.

“Think about it. A Fire Type on your team. A friend that can help you test held items. Not just that, but imagine how much easier your work would be with someone controlling your oven’s flames. Quilava, wanna demonstrate?”

It took  no effort from her to conjure and hold a Will-O-Wisp above her head. She went as far as to adjust the size of it, shrinking and growing it to show her rapidly developing skill.

“But what about my actual craftsmanship?” the boy said. “How does being a trainer train that?”

Sam sent him a flat look.

“Do you really think this is the only shop where people make charcoal? For me, do you think my mother’s bookstore was the only bookstore in the world? Or that I was the only potential Ghost Type specialist out there?”

The boy stuttered for several seconds before letting out a sigh.

“I could see how others do it, too,” he mumbled. “I hate that you’re right.”

Sam sent him a confident grin.

On the floor, the Farfetch’d grabbed the leg of the boy’s pants to draw his attention. As he looked down, it stared back up at him with an expression that screamed encouragement.

“I’ll think about it,” the boy said, although there was something in his voice that told Sam that he’d already come to a decision.

“And don’t worry about catch-up. You might be a bit behind on badges, but you have a solid head start,” Sam said. “The season might have begun a few months ago, but your Farfetch’d is already crazy strong. I mean, four stars before your first Gym Badge! That’s something to be proud of.”

“Yeah. It is, isn’t it?” the boy said with a growing smile.

He stood up and knelt to rub his Farfetch’d’s head. The Pokémon somehow smiled with its beak.

“I have a lot to think about. Thank you. But, uh, I think I need to head to bed?”

Sam blinked. Then he laughed.

“Yeah, I probably should too, huh?”

They headed back into the shop, where the boy thanked Sam one last time. Saying goodbye and stepping outside, the lights turned off behind him, and Sam entered the darkness of the night once more.

“Well, that was a bit unexpected. But it was interesting, yeah? Charcoal sure is amazing.”

Quilava held up her paws to ask to be picked up, and Sam put her back on his shoulders. She rubbed against his face, and then Haunter snickered.

Mankey yawned, but then he blinked when he looked at Sam’s face. After a moment of stunned silence, the primate full-on pointed and laughed.

“...What?”

When Sam got back to his room in the Pokémon Center, he quickly checked his reflection in the mirror. When Quilava had rubbed against him, she took the dust from the charcoal and rubbed it on his face.

It looked like he had whiskers. She pranked him. She pranked him!

Sam sent her the best glare he could muster before bursting into laughter as well. It was such a dumb trick, but it was funny.

He really enjoyed tonight. He wouldn’t mind doing this again in the future.

______________________________________________________________________________

The next day, when Sam headed downstairs just before noon, the nurse informed him that a package had been delivered to “the boy with the Quilava.”

He snorted, realizing that neither he nor the charcoal-maker had ever exchanged names. But, not one to pass up a gift, he opened up the package.

Inside was a simple message, a letter saying, “Thank you for helping my son.” Underneath, something wrapped in paper.

Charcoal, blackened and burnt.

Sam had received that invaluable held item as thanks for encouraging the charcoal-maker’s son to begin a journey of his own.

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Author Note:

Pokémon included in this chapter:
Butterfree
Farfetch’d
Furret
Gastly
Murkrow
Spinarak / Ariados

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