Jason broke camp with practiced efficiency—or at least, more efficiency than the night before. The tent came down faster, the sleeping roll compressed tighter, and everything found its place in his pack with minimal fumbling. Sprigatito watched the process with the air of a supervisor inspecting work she could never be bothered to do herself.
"Don't give me that look. You could help, you know."
"Sprig." The tone clearly communicated that no, she could not, and furthermore had no intention of trying.
"Thought so."
Before setting out, Jason took a few minutes for their new morning routine. He checked Sprigatito over for any issues from the night—none visible—and gave her fur a quick brush to remove the bits of grass and debris she'd accumulated while sleeping. She tolerated this with drowsy patience, still not fully awake.
"Breakfast time." He portioned out her Pokémon food into a small bowl, then dug out one of Birch's Oran Berries as a supplement. "Eat up. We've got a few more hours of walking."
"Sprigatito!" The sight of the berry perked her up immediately.
Jason ate his own breakfast—travel rations that tasted vaguely of cardboard and disappointment—while watching the forest wake up around them. A flock of Taillow passed overhead, their calls echoing through the canopy. Something rustled in the distant underbrush, too far away to identify. The air smelled of damp earth and growing things.
This is real, he thought for the hundredth time. This is my life now.
The thought still felt strange. But it was starting to feel less like a crisis and more like a fact.
They reached Oldale Town shortly before noon.
It was larger than Littleroot—maybe twice the size, with a proper town square and streets that actually had names posted on corners. Where Littleroot had felt like a large village that happened to have a Pokémon lab, Oldale felt like a real town, albeit a small one.
The main road widened into a paved street as it entered the commercial district. Jason passed a Pokémart with a cheerful blue roof, its windows displaying Pokéballs and Potions in neat arrangements. Next door, a general store advertised camping supplies and travel gear. A bakery occupied the corner, its door propped open to let out the smell of fresh bread and something sweet—a line of customers snaked out onto the sidewalk, several with Pokémon waiting patiently beside them.
Across the square, he spotted a café with outdoor seating where trainers lounged with drinks and snacks. A small bookshop. A place that looked like it might be a tailor or clothing store. An electronics repair shop with a Magnemite hovering in the window display, rotating slowly.
People moved through the streets with the easy rhythm of daily life. A woman walked a pair of Zigzagoon on matching leashes, both sniffing at everything they passed. An old man sat on a bench near a fountain, a Taillow on his shoulder and a Meowth curled at his feet, reading a newspaper like something from another era. A group of kids chased each other around the fountain while a Skitty batted at the water droplets, and a harried-looking Poochyena tried to herd them back together.
Near the bakery, a trainer about Jason's age was showing off a Beautifly to an impressed audience—the butterfly Pokémon's wings caught the sunlight, scattering rainbow patterns across the cobblestones. Further down, a street performer had drawn a crowd, his Loudred providing bass-heavy accompaniment to his guitar playing while a tiny Whismur danced on an upturned hat.
The Pokémon Center dominated the north side of the square, its distinctive red roof visible from blocks away. Larger than Littleroot's, it had a second floor and what looked like a small courtyard in the back. Trainers flowed in and out through automatic glass doors, some looking fresh and eager, others tired from travel.
This is more like what I imagined, Jason thought. An actual town, with actual people living actual lives.
A Wingull swooped down and snatched something from an unwary tourist's hand—bread, maybe—prompting a squawk of protest from both bird and victim. A nearby officer with an Arcanine at her side shouted something, and the Wingull dropped its prize and flapped away, unrepentant.
Life. Ordinary, messy, complicated life, with Pokémon woven through every part of it.
Jason made a beeline for the Pokémon Center, Sprigatito trotting at his side. She was watching everything with wide eyes, her head swiveling to track each new sight and sound and smell. This was probably the most civilization she'd seen since the transport crash.
"Stick close," he murmured. "Lot of people here."
"Sprig." She pressed against his ankle, not scared but definitely alert.
The Pokémon Center dominated the town square, its distinctive red roof visible from blocks away. Jason made a beeline for it, Sprigatito trotting at his side.
The interior was similar to Littleroot's Center but busier—more trainers, more Pokémon, more noise. A queue had formed at the front desk where Nurse Joy was processing requests with calm efficiency. Jason joined the line, taking the opportunity to observe his surroundings.
The trainers here were... varied. Some looked about his age, others were teenagers, a few were clearly younger kids on their first journeys. Their Pokémon ranged from common species he recognized (Zigzagoon, Taillow, Wurmple evolutions) to a few he had to think harder to place. Everyone seemed tired but content, the particular exhaustion of people who'd been traveling and were happy to rest.
"Next, please."
Jason stepped up to the counter. The Nurse Joy here was nearly identical to the one in Littleroot—same pink hair, same kind smile, same uniform. He knew from his game knowledge that they were an extended family, all trained in Pokémon medicine, but seeing it in person was still slightly uncanny.
"Welcome to Oldale Pokémon Center. How can I help you today?"
"Just arrived from Littleroot. Looking to rest, heal my Pokémon, and get some information if possible."
"Of course." She glanced down at Sprigatito with professional interest, her expression flickering slightly at the unfamiliar species. "I'll need your trainer card for registration."
Jason handed it over. Nurse Joy scanned it, her eyes moving across the screen as data populated.
"Jason Cahill, registered in Littleroot under Professor Birch's sponsorship. One Pokémon registered—Sprigatito, Grass-type." She looked up. "She's not in our standard database. Paldean species?"
"That's right. Professor Birch has the documentation."
"I see it here. Interesting." She tapped a few more keys. "Room twelve is available. Healing services are complimentary, as always. The cafeteria is down the hall to your left, open until nine PM. Is there anything else you need?"
"Actually, yes. I'm planning to challenge the gym circuit, and I wanted to learn more about how it works. The scaling system, specifically."
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Nurse Joy smiled, the expression of someone who'd answered this question many times before. "Of course. Are you familiar with the trainer rating system?"
"Only vaguely."
"Here." She turned the monitor slightly so he could see it. "Every registered trainer has a rating based on their team's assessed strength. Individual Pokémon are rated from one to five stars depending on their development, and the total gives your team rating."
She pointed to a section of his profile. Jason leaned in, reading the display:
TRAINER: Jason Cahill TEAM RATING: 2 Stars REGISTERED POKéMON:
- Sprigatito (Grass) — 2 Stars
Two stars. That's... low. Obviously.
"Gym Leaders use your rating to determine which team they'll battle with," Nurse Joy continued. "A trainer at your level would face the Leader's beginner team—typically two or three Pokémon with basic movesets. As you gain badges and your rating increases, the challenges scale accordingly."
"So the gyms are never impossible, but they're never easy either."
"Exactly. The system ensures fair challenges while still testing a trainer's growth." She handed back his trainer card. "Rustboro Gym is the nearest—about three days' travel west through Route 102 and Petalburg City. Roxanne specializes in Rock-types. I'd recommend researching her battle style before challenging."
"I will. Thank you."
"One more thing." Nurse Joy's expression turned slightly more serious. "Your rating updates automatically as your Pokémon grow, but it's also affected by battle records. Wins against higher-rated opponents boost it faster. Losses don't penalize much, but a pattern of losses might flag you for remedial training recommendations."
Remedial training. That's a nice way of saying "you need help."
"Understood. Thanks for the information."
She handed him a room key and directed him down the appropriate hallway. Jason headed off, Sprigatito at his heels, his mind already churning through the implications.
Two stars. Roxanne's beginner team is probably three or four stars total. That's a gap, but not an insurmountable one.
But one Pokémon isn't enough. I need to build a team.
Room twelve was small but functional—a single bed, a desk, a chair, a window overlooking the town square. Jason dropped his pack and collapsed onto the bed, suddenly aware of just how tired he was. Walking for hours, sleeping on the ground, the constant low-level alertness of travel—it all added up.
Sprigatito jumped up beside him, circling twice before settling into a compact ball against his hip. Within moments, her breathing had slowed into the rhythm of sleep.
Good idea.
Jason closed his eyes, intending to rest for just a few minutes.
He woke to afternoon light slanting through the window and his stomach growling loud enough to wake the dead.
"Sprig. Sprig, wake up."
"Spriiii..." A protesting groan, followed by a slow stretch.
"Food. Cafeteria. Come on."
That got her moving.
The cafeteria was moderately busy, trainers scattered across tables in various states of eating, talking, or staring blankly at nothing. Jason grabbed a tray, loaded it with whatever looked edible, and found an empty table near the window.
The food was... fine. Generic but filling, the kind of institutional cooking that prioritized nutrition over flavor. Sprigatito seemed happier with her Pokémon food, crunching through the kibble with enthusiasm.
"Mind if I sit?"
Jason looked up to find a young woman hovering nearby, tray in hand. She was maybe early twenties, with curly black hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and a Shroomish perched on her shoulder.
"Go ahead."
She sat across from him, setting down her tray with a grateful sigh. "Thanks. Place is packed today. I'm Mei, by the way."
"Jason."
"You just come in from Littleroot?" At his nod, she grinned. "Thought so. You've got that 'first day on the road' look. All the new trainers do."
"That obvious?"
"Only to someone who's been doing this a while." She started eating, her Shroomish hopping down to a bowl she'd brought for it. "I'm on my second circuit, actually. Did Hoenn a few years back, took some time off, decided to do it again."
"Second circuit? Does that happen a lot?"
"More than you'd think. Some people never stop. There's this guy, Mitch, he's on his fifth Hoenn circuit. Just loves the journey, doesn't really care about winning." Mei shrugged. "Different strokes."
Jason considered this. The games had presented the gym challenge as a linear path—get badges, beat the Elite Four, become Champion, done. But of course reality was more complex. People had different goals, different definitions of success.
"What about you?" he asked. "What's your goal this time?"
"Top sixteen in the Conference. Made top thirty-two last time, know I can do better." Her eyes went to Sprigatito, widening slightly. "Whoa. What species is that? I've never seen one before."
"Sprigatito. She's from Paldea."
"Paldea?" Mei leaned forward, her Shroomish mimicking the motion with obvious curiosity. "How'd you get a Paldean starter in Hoenn?"
"Long story involving an Aether transport crash and a lot of confusion."
"Damn. That's wild." She studied Sprigatito with open fascination. "She's gorgeous. Grass-type?"
"Sprig." Sprigatito preened under the attention.
"Yeah. Pure Grass for now, Grass/Dark when she fully evolves."
"Dark secondary? Nice. That'll give you good coverage against Psychics." Mei sat back, looking thoughtful. "You heading to Rustboro?"
"Eventually. I want to catch another Pokémon first. Someone mentioned Ralts can be found near a lake on Route 102?"
"Oh yeah, Lake Serene. It's a few hours west of here, just off the main path." Mei's expression turned knowing. "Fair warning—Ralts are shy as hell. They sense emotions, and if they pick up anything threatening or aggressive, they'll teleport away before you even see them. You have to be calm."
"Any tips?"
"Patience. Lots of patience. And maybe some bait—they like sweet berries. Pecha especially." She glanced at Sprigatito. "Your girl there might actually help. Grass-types tend to have calming presences. Just... don't go in with battle energy, you know? Approach it like you're trying to make a friend, not catch a target."
Make a friend. That's actually good advice.
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
"No problem." Mei stood, gathering her tray. "Good luck out there, Jason. Maybe I'll see you at the Conference someday."
"Maybe you will."
She headed off, Shroomish scrambling to keep up, and Jason watched her go.
Another good person. This world keeps surprising me.
After lunch, Jason spent a few hours gathering information.
He found a public terminal in the Center's lobby and spent time researching Route 102, Lake Serene, and Ralts behavior. The information largely confirmed what Mei had told him—Ralts were empaths, sensitive to emotions, difficult to approach. Most trainers who caught them did so through patience and emotional openness rather than traditional battle-and-weaken methods.
They approach trainers whose emotions feel safe, one article noted. Attempting to chase or corner a Ralts will result in immediate teleportation. The species must choose to engage.
There was also a note about their evolution. Ralts evolved into Kirlia, then into either Gardevoir or Gallade depending on gender and method. Gardevoir was Psychic/Fairy, one of the stronger special attackers in competitive play. Gallade was Psychic/Fighting, requiring a Dawn Stone and a male Kirlia.
Either would be useful. But Gardevoir's Fairy typing would help against Dark and Dragon types.
He also looked up Roxanne and the Rustboro Gym. The information available was general—Rock-type specialist, emphasis on defensive strategies, known for Geodude and Nosepass in lower-tier matches. Her full team for Championship-level challengers included Aerodactyl, Armaldo, and a Tyranitar, but Jason wouldn't be facing anything like that for years.
Baby steps. Beat the beginner team first. Worry about Tyranitar later.
By evening, he had a plan.
Tomorrow, he'd head to Lake Serene and look for a Ralts. He'd take Mei's advice—approach with calm, bring sweet berries, let Sprigatito's presence help. If he found one, he'd try to make a connection rather than force a battle.
And if that didn't work... well, there were other Pokémon on Route 102. Other options. He'd figure something out.
That night, Jason sat on his bed with Sprigatito in his lap, working through their evening routine.
The brush moved through her fur in slow, steady strokes, and she purred contentedly, her eyes half-closed. Whatever tension she'd accumulated during the day's travel melted away under his hands.
"Tomorrow's important," he told her, keeping his voice soft. "We're going to try to find another team member. A Ralts—Psychic-type, really sensitive to emotions. I need you to help me stay calm."
"Sprig?" She opened one eye, curious.
"Yeah. You're good at that. Being around you helps me feel... grounded, I guess. Less anxious."
She considered this for a moment, then pressed her head more firmly against his hand in what he interpreted as I'll help.
"Thanks, Sprig." He found a particularly tangled spot near her ear and worked it out gently. "You know, a few days ago I was alone in a forest with no idea what was happening. Now I have you, and a sponsor, and friends, and an actual plan. That's... that's something."
"Sprig" Quiet agreement.
"I don't know if I can get back. To my old world, I mean. I don't even know if I should want to—there might not be anything to get back to. But even if I'm stuck here forever..." He paused, searching for the right words. "I think I could be okay with that. Eventually."
Sprigatito shifted, turning to look up at him with those luminous red eyes. She didn't speak—couldn't speak—but something in her gaze communicated understanding. I'm here. We're in this together.
Jason smiled, scratching behind her ears. "Yeah. Together."
He finished the grooming session, gave her an Oran Berry as a treat, and settled in for the night. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new opportunities, new steps on this strange journey.
But tonight, he was content.
Per-Pokémon Rating (1-5 Stars):
- 1 Star: Newly caught, untrained, basic moves only
- 2 Stars: Some training, developing movepool, learning battle basics
- 3 Stars: Competent battler, solid movepool, good synergy with trainer
- 4 Stars: Experienced, refined techniques, competitive-level
- 5 Stars: Elite-level, mastered abilities, peak potential
Team Rating (Sum of individual Pokémon, max 30 stars):
- 1-5 Stars: Beginner — New trainers, 1-2 Pokémon
- 6-10 Stars: Novice — 2-4 badges, developing skills
- 11-15 Stars: Intermediate — 4-6 badges, regional competition
- 16-20 Stars: Advanced — 6-8 badges, Conference contender
- 21-25 Stars: Elite — Elite Four level
- 26-30 Stars: Champion — Masters 8 level
- 1-5 Stars: 2 Pokémon, 1-2 Stars each
- 6-10 Stars: 3 Pokémon, 2-3 Stars each
- 11-15 Stars: 4 Pokémon, 3-4 Stars each
- 16-20 Stars: 5 Pokémon, 4 Stars each
- 21+ Stars: 6 Pokémon, 4-5 Stars each (full strength)