Chapter 9- First Outing
Alex groaned when the morning bell woke him up. Even after he had turned in early last night, it barely felt like he had slept at all. It was too late to go back to sleep, though; Caleb had already turned on the light-crystal, adding to the sunlight creeping in through the window. Another day here at the Academy, and what was Alex going to do? Disappoint instructors with his lack of knowledge, or make others hate him for his scars and ghostly Hidden Power? Or even make more rumors about how evil he was, looking at the same rumors?
“Come on, Alex, we'll be late to the expedition!” Caleb urged.
Alex didn't know what would happen if he were late to a class. Would Sergeant Rime make him stay behind and write an essay? Or would he be yelled at and berated by Deputy Raticate? Would they kick him out? Could they even kick him out, with the Code that had provided so much for him? What would happen then?
None of those options sounded appealing, or worth it for a few more moments of precious sleep– so Alex stood up, leaning on the wall while he got his balance. He kept his eyes open the barest amount, just enough to follow Caleb as they walked down the stairs.
Alex didn't quite trance as he had hoped to during breakfast. As Psychic Gothitelle had said, he needed all the sleep he could get as an Abra, and eking out a few minutes while eating helped keep his psychic abilities up. If he tried to stay awake, his teleportation would fail, and his Hidden Power would be weaker and even less predictable. But as he sat with the Pidgey cohort at the table they had unofficially claimed as their own, they started up a conversation that they kept dragging Alex into.
“This place is tougher than I thought!” Murkrow said, pecking at his meal. “Reading maps and finding stuff is easy when you can see it all from the air. But that writing teacher! How does anyone write good enough for her? I mean, I knew the guild was gonna make me battle, but nobody told me I’d have to learn to write!”
“The language class is simple. All the characters are phonetic, making transcription easy. Instead, someone could explain why I receive demerits in the survival class. I perform all the requested actions, but there is bias when I am expected to know how organic Pokemon need to live. Why do I have to memorize the daily water intake of a Pokemon based on their mass?” Baltoy buzzed.
“It's not just that! How do you keep the 'sa' and 'chi' symbols straight? They look the same!” Murkrow flustered.
“Quite simple. Just read it out loud to memorize the symbols and know the meaning,” Baltoy turned to stare at Murkrow with their unblinking eyes.
“That doesn't make any sense! How can I read it out loud if I don't know what it says?!”
“Stop it, both of you! You're getting Yomi worked up!” Girafarig exclaimed.
Sure enough, her tail was staring at Murkrow, its mouth locked into a mischievous grin. Girafarig tried to position herself so Yomi was out of reach, but that only put him into the aisle between tables. As she twisted one way and another, Yomi snapped out and clipping a few of Murkrow's feathers. He squawked and hopped away, only to bump into Alex, who was just trying to eat his porridge. Alex fell sideways onto a Lairon, who didn't budge as Alex landed on her.
“Yomi! Stop it!” Girafarig said, glaring at her misbehaving tail. “I've told you, only bite things that attack us first! We don't use preemptive attacks!” Finally finding a position that kept her tail far enough away from everyone else, she looked back at the group.
“Ugh. I never expected Yomi to help me so much in battle class, especially not to be the best battler once Monferno lost-, but he gets me into so much trouble! I've had to return some of the money I've gotten from my farming apprenticeship because he eats the crops while I'm weeding,” she complained.
Meanwhile, Caleb was fussing over Alex. “Alex! Are you all right?” he said worryingly.
Alex groaned as he sat up, rubbing where his head had bounced off the Lairon's impenetrable steel plates.
“I'm all right. Just tired,” Alex mumbled, trying to get back to his food. But that wasn't to be. Fomantis scurried under the table to pop up in Alex's face.
“Pardon the intrusion, but you said you were tired after hitting your head, which might mean you have a concussion. Please follow my blades with your eyes, and tell me if you experience blurry vision, headaches, or dizziness while doing so,” Fomantis said, waving his arms in Alex's face.
Alex blearily stared at the bug. “Fomantis. I'm always tired. I'm supposed to sleep eighteen hours a day, but morning classes take four hours, apprenticeship takes another four, and there's only twenty four hours in a day. I need to nap as much as I can for the expedition today,” Alex deadpanned.
“Apologies, Alex. 'Twas not my intention to aggravate you,” Fomantis said, slinking back to his spot.
Alex realized what he'd said. Fomantis was just trying to help using what he was learning from Physician Golduck.
“Umm, sorry. You can come back if you want, Fomantis,” Alex said, feeling guilty.
“No, I was mistaken. I forgot about your unique needs. Physician Golduck spent yesterday teaching me about head wounds, and I thought that applied here,” Fomantis said.
Across from Alex, Caleb was counting on his fingers. “Wait, are you always getting three less hours of sleep than you need? That can't be good for you. How is that allowed?” he asked.
“Umm, it's only two hours. But if I nap during the mealtimes, it's just enough to keep going. At least according to Psychic Gothitelle. And I need even more sleep if it's battle or move practice day, so I have to go to bed even earlier to recover,” Alex said.
“How do you think you'll do today? I think it's supposed to be a few kilometer's hike off the trails, isn't it? Are you gonna make it?” Caleb asked.
“I－Umm, we have to, don't we? We can't graduate until we get past Mystery Dungeons, and we don't start those unless we pass navigation, right?” Alex asked.
“Well, at least that's the one thing I can do here,” Murkrow said. “All those maps make a lot more sense when I see the same stuff from the air.”
Alex tuned the rest of the conversation out. Why had he snapped at Fomantis? He had been trying to help. The Pidgey cohort were some of the few Pokemon around the Rainbow Mesa that didn't voice any of the strange rumors about him. Sure, Girafarig seemed a little wary, but she wasn't whispering suspicions where he could hear. Fomantis was similar to Alex; they made up the bottom of the class in anything that requireed speed, strength, or endurance.
The Pokemon in the halls and on the streets never stopped talking about him; if anything, it seemed the claims grew louder and stranger as rumors spread and gained a life of their own. One said he used to be a human warlord, stained with the blood of his victims and opponents. Others said he was really a Zoroark sent to spy on them for some dark force. But almost worse were the hushed questions of why a human would be turned into such an unsightly scrawny and weak Abra. At least the Pokemon in this group didn’t treat him as an outsider.
After far too little time for Alex to rest, the Pidgey cohort made their way outside after picking up their outdoor gear. All the training this week, from the laps jogged in battle class, to the practice in packing and unpacking their pack, and Gothitelle's work on psychic power and exercise, had strengthened Alex's body so he no longer stumbled under the weight of his pack. A small focus toward his legs and feet supplemented his body with psychic power, helping him carry all the supplies one needed to survive alone in the wilderness of the Sand Continent. It still wasn't easy, not really, but Alex hoped he'd be able to pass today's test.
For all the training had done to make Alex capable, it had a much more profound effect on Caleb. He had carried his own pack on his way to the Academy without trouble, but now he jogged at the front of the group, leaving the rest behind while his bag bounced at his side. Caleb steadied it with one arm while he urged the rest of the group to go faster. Girafarig followed with Murkrow in the sky above her, while Baltoy kept a steady pace with his odd half spinning, half hopping way of moving. Fomantis and Alex stayed in the back, trying not to be forgotten. Caleb likely would have left the rest behind if he didn't keep looking back for Alex, bouncing on his feet until he got closer.
Soon, they came to the bowl of sand surrounded by rock used for the survival class. Alex and Fomantis entered last, panting as they kept up with their more athletic teammates. Sergeant Rime was waiting, twirling his cane in his fingers, making a wispy fog dance to the ground before dispersing.
“Good! You're all here. As we discussed, it's best to start any travel and expeditions early here, before the heat becomes overpowering. Summers here can reach forty degrees on the Castform scale, which causes unconsciousness in hours for most Pokemon, and death in a day. Luckily, most Mystery Dungeons in the area are cooler, and any other work will be done in the morning or afternoon, or is otherwise sheltered. Today's mission is to show that you have learned your lessons on navigation, as well as survival skills needed in the desert.
“You will be divided into two teams. Your goal will be to climb to the top of the Juniper Plateau, retrieve one scarf each, and find your way back. There are no well-traveled trails; you will have to find and navigate your own path up the cliffs.”
Cliffs? Alex thought this test would be like his walk to the Rainbow Mesa, maybe with a steep hill or two. Apparently, this test included rock climbing. Could he teleport to the top? He hadn't tried going to places he wasn't familiar with. Gothitelle had warned him of the consequences of a misaimed teleport: excruciating headache, while bouncing off of whatever obstacles were in the way. But on his first day here, he had moved several kilometers in an instant. If he could do something like that on demand, it would be so useful for him. Wasn't he supposed to be traveling the world? That was what all the other humans had done, according to Pumpkaboo and Caleb. Usually they stumbled onto their purpose and destiny along the way. But the Academy probably wouldn't let him do that until he graduated. Maybe teleporting would be seen as cheating, and he had to climb the mountain on his own power.
“The first group will be Girafarig, Baltoy, and Fomantis. You will have to each reach the top and collect the green scarves. Caleb, Alex, and Murkrow: your team is to collect the pink scarves. Each of you must collect your own; you cannot simply send the strongest or fastest to grab them all. There will be painful consequences if you try,” Mr Rime said ominously.
Oh. Alex's second idea was that Murkrow could just grab everyone a scarf and bypass the challenge. But nothing at the Academy was that easy. Each had to succeed on their own merits. Alex didn't know what the 'painful consequences' would be, but he wanted to avoid them at all cost.
Baltoy set off nearly immediately, calling out, “Come! The south face is the fastest route to the top of Juniper Plateau. We must be swift to get back before afternoon!”
“Oh! A–Alright!” Girafarig said, hurrying behind him.
Fomantis adjusted his hat that shaded his head and back leaves, turned to Alex and the other group, and said, “We shall see you later, at the top or back here, so good luck!” He quickly scurried away, while Girafarig's tail stared at him with a rictus grin. Fomantis quickly slowed down, giving the head that was almost as big as him a wide berth.
Alex dug his map out of his bag, along with the compass he had been given. He now recognized that the crystal and needle were enchanted to always point in one direction, making it a valuable navigation aid. He saw the tiny runes etched into the needle and around the edge, though he didn't understand what they meant. One of the Zweilous had promised to teach him all the known runes, their meanings, and uses if he promised to stay and practice with the Drake's Emporium.
Alex unfolded the map, trying to find a path. They were... here, next to the Rainbow Mesa, labeled in shimmering iridescent ink. And over there was the Juniper Plateau, marked and traced in dull green. What was the best way there, and how to ascend it?
Alex couldn't see their destination from where they stood; there was another, lower hill in the way. He traced a finger on the map, trying to decipher the lines and symbols into elevation, hazards, and terrain.
Alex looked up to see Murkrow and Caleb looking at him expectantly.
“Which way should we go, Alex?” Caleb asked.
They wanted him to decide? Why had he been the only one that had pulled out a map?
Alex laid the map on the ground for them all to see. “Umm, I think we should go this way, around the hill, and go up on the other side from Baltoy. These kinds of lines mean it's less steep, right?” Alex said, uncomfortable with the attention.
Murkrow hopped beside Alex to look at the map.
“I think that looks right. But you'll have to stay close to the hill on that side. The map says there's a lot of broken-up rock near there, or some other kind of difficult terrain,” he said.
“Umm, okay,” Alex said, rolling the map back up. They filled up their water containers in the river, and started towards Juniper Plateau.
They immediately found a problem: Murkrow's flying speed kept leaving Caleb behind unless he jogged, and Alex was slower than both of them. Alex poured more effort into walking, speeding up to a fast march, but it was too fast for him.
When Murkrow got too far ahead, he’d hover in the air, flapping his wings to stay in one place. After several repeats of him fluttering in the air while Alex shuffled closer, Murkrow landed.
“Guys? This isn't going to work. I can't really go slower without getting tired before we get there,” he said.
“It's harder... to go slower?” Alex panted.
“I don't get it either, but each bird has a speed they can fly without flapping our wings too much. Any slower, we fall, but to go faster, we have to push against the wind. And I can't walk on the ground the whole way either with you guys, my legs don't work that way,” Murkrow said.
The group fell silent as they considered the problem.
“What if you just go ahead and meet us there?” Caleb suggested.
“Umm, weren't we supposed to go together? I don't want to leave you two behind, in case you get in trouble. I can always fly back for help, but I can't go for help if I don’t see you're in trouble.”
“Can you fly in circles? Then you can stay near us but still keep moving,” Alex said.
Murkrow shuffled his feet. “Uh, that might work. I don't think I can glide the whole time, but maybe I can land a little bit in front of you when I need to rest? Then we can take a break together before moving again,” he said.
Alex and Caleb agreed, and Murkrow took off again, looping in wide, slow circles. Already the sun was bright and getting hotter, straining Alex's eyes. He closed them, hoping he could use his psychic senses. Alex felt out, trying to copy what he had felt with Psychic Gothitelle. It was supposedly a trademark ability for Abra to go most of the time without opening their eyes, relying on psychic senses to know about their surroundings and the locations of Pokemon around them. Supposedly, they could live nearly their entire lives with shut eyes in a dark cave, avoiding danger, finding allies and food, and more with their eyes closed and nearly asleep. But that made no sense. Everyone else here needed to be awake to be alert; that's what awareness meant.
Alex felt something in the dimness behind his eyelids. He felt out, trying to find that same feeling he had when he had subconsciously noticed Psychic Gothitelle while asleep.
And he found it. It was so familiar to him, Alex wondered how he had never noticed Caleb's psychic presence. Something about the feeling evoked memories of Caleb, the way he walked, the tendency he had to fiddle with the buckle on his bag, his favorite spicy food. In some indescribable way, what Alex could sense felt like Caleb just as looking at him with physical eyes set him apart from every other Pokemon.
Alex now knew why he never had problems finding Caleb in a crowd, even when he couldn't see him. At some point in the last week, Alex had subconsciously picked up and memorized Caleb's psychic signature. He could find him instantly, as long as they were close. With this knowledge, Alex had no problem following Caleb, locked on to his psychic presence.
It did have problems, though. Alex could feel when Caleb took a step to one side or the other, but he couldn't tell why, until Alex stumbled on a rock he hadn't noticed in this psychic landscape. So he followed the steps as close as he could, even though Caleb's legs were longer.
After the second rock Alex stumbled on, Caleb turned to see Alex walking hesitantly, with his eyes shut tight. While Alex had stepped on one rock that made him slip, he somehow knew the short ledge Caleb had just stepped up, and avoided the prickly bush Caleb had stepped around.
“Alex? What are you doing?” Caleb asked.
Alex opened his eyes, squinting in the desert sun. “Oh, umm, I was practicing seeing with my mind. The sun is too bright, so I wanted to try to use psychic sensing. That's okay, right?”
“What? That's amazing Alex! You can follow me with your eyes shut!”
“Umm, kind of. I can't see the ground, I just sort of see you moving over or around things,” Alex said.
Murkrow glided down. “You two stopped. Is something wrong? There's nothing really to report yet, other than Baltoy really hurrying to the south. I don't know how he gets around without any legs.” he said.
“Umm, no, it's fine. I was just practicing something,” Alex said.
“Alright then,” Murkrow said as he flapped back into the sky.
So they went, Alex cracking his eyes open to see whenever Caleb made an unusual move. He was glad for his caution when he saw Caleb avoid a sticker bush full of thorns-. Nobody wanted to run into one of those by accident.
They made their way around the large hill blocking their view of Juniper Plateau. As Murkrow said, they had to walk next to the hill, as the ground farther away was a field of jagged and broken rocks. It was as if Regigigas had simply dropped another hill beside the first, shattering it into a thousand boulders and shards. Alex and Caleb had to weave around boulders bigger than themselves.
Alex realized that Murkrow wasn't actually any faster than Caleb when he flew; Murkrow simply had the advantage of not having to dodge each broken rock, or scraggly tree. Murkrow didn't have to move around the cactus or find the easiest way over a ledge, he could simply fly in a straight line. That's why Caleb had outpaced him on the level path from the Rainbow Mesa to the survival class, but lagged behind on the rough backcountry.
Murkrow met them on the far side of the hill, perched on a dead branch of a tree. Once Alex found his way into the patchy shade left by the hardy tree, he collapsed to the ground, shrugging off his bag.
“Hah, how much farther is it?” Alex panted. He pulled out the map, checking the distances they had traveled and how much was left. They weren't even halfway to the plateau, and Alex was already feeling sluggish in the heat. He grasped at his waterskin, but paused before opening it. They had half the way to go, plus the climb up the plateau. Then all the way back, as the sun reached its hottest. Better to be careful with his water if he could. Alex reluctantly hung it back on the side of his pack.
“As well as I can see, it's pretty flat from here to the Plateau. Just lots of dirt and bare rock, but there's no more scrambling over boulders like you did for the last mile,” Murkrow said.
Caleb leaned back against the tree for a moment. “That was a lot harder than the road I took here. Sergeant Rime wasn't kidding that it was tough out here!” he exclaimed. “Alex, are you holding up alright?”
“Umm, I can make it, I think. It's just that this bag is so heavy. Why do we need to take the blanket with us? It's not like we're staying overnight out here,” he complained. Alex knew why, it was the training that every recruit at the Academy needed to follow. If he couldn't carry all the survival gear as a recruit, how could he expect to carry it as a cadet? But logic didn't alleviate the sore spot where the weight of the bag sat on his tail, or the aching of his feet on the rough sand and rock.
Alex would have laid under the scrap of shade for an hour if he could, but Caleb was already standing back up. Alex groaned. It felt like his pack weighed as much as he did. It was a challenge to pick it up from the shelf it laid on in the room, and to stand up while wearing it seemed nearly beyond him. But Caleb held out a hand, and pulled Alex up from off the ground. Alex wobbled a little until he got his balance, and they strode forth onto the plain.
Murkrow was right; this section was a lot easier. Alex kept putting one foot in front of the other, watching Caleb through his psychic senses. The sun was at full brightness now; and there were only small bushes and tumbleweed; nothing tall enough for shade. Sweat started dripping from Alex and Caleb, making their backs uncomfortably wet, but barely succeeding in cooling them down. Murkrow no longer outpaced them so much, as the heat got to him as well.
So it was for a long, monotonous hour, until Caleb suddenly let out a cry of pain and stumbled. He fell to the ground, clutching at his foot. Alex opened his eyes to see Caleb's foot full of needles from a cactus he stepped on.
“Ah! Are you okay, Caleb?” Alex cried, seeing his friend in pain. The giant leaf of cactus was still stuck to Caleb, nearly covering his foot with its white, thin spines.
“Argh, I couldn't see the cactus because it was behind a rock. This hurts! I can't walk like this,” Caleb said through gritted teeth. He tried pulling the needles out, but was rewarded by pricking his fingers instead.
Murkrow glided out of the sky, seeing Caleb sitting on the ground.
“I heard you yell, then I saw the cactus in your foot. Are you okay?” he said.
“No! I can't walk! And we need to get to the Plateau, or we'll be left behind! But every time I try to pull out one of the thorns, I get another one stuck in my fingers!” Caleb complained.
“Do we have something in the medicine bag? I know there's an Oran berry or two in there, at least.” Murkrow said.
“Orans won't get this out of my foot, though!” Caleb said frustratedly.
“Well, you want to get to some shade, at least? There's a bush over there in that dry riverbed,” Murkrow said.
“I guess it'll be something,” Caleb grumbled. Alex put his bag on the ground, so he could try to support Caleb as he hopped to the sparse shade. Caleb was heavier than his bag had been, and Alex hadn't learned how to pick anything up psychically other than himself. So Alex had to use psychic power to hold up his legs and arms, trying to account for the weight difference between his frail body and Caleb's sturdy muscle. Still, he marginally acted to balance Caleb, leaving him to bear all of his weight on one foot as he hopped.
“Hah, we made it,” Alex panted. With all the hopping, the main leaf had fallen off of Caleb's foot, but there were still dozens or hundreds of fine thorns embedded in the soft flesh of his foot. A few drops of blood seeped onto the hot, hard ground.
After resting for a moment, Alex grabbed his bag and brought it over to Caleb. Sorting through it, he found the pouch that Sargent Rime had said was a 'first aid kit,' but he hadn't elaborated beyond saying it had bandages and remedies for emergencies. And why would he? Most common injuries could heal in a day with an Oran berry or two, and they had Physician Golduck a few minutes' walk away inside the Academy.
Alex dumped the kit on the ground, trying to find something, anything that could help. Maybe, if Caleb couldn't go anywhere, Murkrow could fly back to the Academy and get help. But that would probably make them fail today's test. Why did this have to happen?
Alex dug through thick ribbons of cloth, a pocket with dried Oran berries, along with other powders he couldn't identify. He finally came across two flat pieces of wood attached at one end.
“Great, you found the tweezers!” Caleb exclaimed. “Give them to me, and I'll start digging these out. Once I'm done, I’l have an Oran to stop the bleeding, and then we can get moving again!” Caleb said.
Caleb dug at his split skin, pulling out needles as long as Alex's nails. Alex watched, unsure how to help, if he could at all. Murkrow perched in the bush, scanning the horizon to see if anyone was coming.
After a few minutes, Caleb was pulling out thorns slower and slower, and they got shorter and harder to see. Instead of sticking out, these were deeply embedded and smaller. Caleb's hisses of pain grew more frequent as he had to root around for the ends, touching into other spines and moving them deeper. Eventually, he yelled and stabbed the tweezers into a soft patch of dirt.
“Gah! I can't get these! They're too small!” he yelled.
Alex tried to reassure Caleb. “Um, it looks like you got most of them though. Could we just walk back to the Academy and have Physician Golduck finish?”
“I don't want to give up just because of some plant! I bet Baltoy's already got the scarves and is on their way back!” Caleb shouted with frustration. He tested his foot on the ground, jerking away when he put pressure on it. “Urgh, can't even stand on this foot.”
“Umm, can I try? Maybe I can get them from a different angle,” Alex suggested. He hadn't seen Caleb this frustrated before, yelling and lashing out.
Caleb flopped his foot toward Alex. “Go ahead, I can't go anywhere anyways.”
Alex squinted, trying to see the tiny barbs left in Caleb's foot. Blood seeped from where the cactus had split the skin and where Caleb had opened it further to find the spines. Alex could see tiny needles, the sharp points distinctive when doused in blood. Alex gingerly took the tweezers and pulled on one barbed needle, which was grouped in with several others. Caleb sucked in a breath, but Alex pulled the bundle out quickly. He looked closer, and found a dozen more single or clusters of needles all embedded in Caleb's foot.
Alex slowly went to work, pulling out all he could see. He hadn’t practiced telekinesis with Psychic Gothetelle; she said that he needed more practice with the basics before he could uses his psychic powers that way. Instead, Alex had to use the tweezers like Caleb. Caleb would groan when Alex had to dig, or found a sensitive spot. Once, he jerked his whole foot out of Alex's lap, hissing in pain.
“Okay, that's done. I can't handle any more poking,” Caleb said. He looked at the bottom of his foot, where no more burrs stuck out. “Huh, you got them all. Thanks Alex!” he said.
“Hey, guys? There's a Pokemon coming here.” Murkrow peeped. “I think it found the blood Caleb left by the cactus, and it's following the trail here.” Murkrow said.
“Umm, is it going to attack us? Does... it think we're food and it can pick off the injured one?” Alex asked nervously.
“Doubt it, it's a Cacnea. I'm not sure if they even eat at all. But it might think we're coming in on its territory,” Murkrow replied.
“Come on! We can fight it off!” Caleb said, stuffing a dried Oran in his mouth before standing up, favoring his uninjured foot.
“Hey! You just lost one fight with a cactus, don't go picking another fight with a sentient one now! I've never actually fought before, just sparring!.” Murkrow squawked. “I thought we were waiting until we went into Mystery Dungeons before having to fight like that!”
Alex noticed a new psychic presence . “Umm, I think she hears us,” Alex said, feeling it turn in their direction.
Caleb limped to stand between Alex and Murkrow as the Cacnea became visible at the bank of the dry riverbed. The new Pokemon didn't seem to pay the group any attention, only glancing down at the ground and shuffling her stubby feet at random places.
“Hey! Are you wild or feral? We don't want to fight you!” Caleb yelled. “We- We're cadets from the Academy! We're really well trained!”
The Cacnea responded by pointing one of her thick, stubby arms at Caleb. One of her fingers glowed as it pointed at him.
“Traveler, it would not be wise to threaten me, when you have already been injured by another thorny plant which cannot even move. You are foolish, leaving spilled blood exposed to the air. It attracts Houndour and their stronger relatives. I will not have my home spoiled by reckless adventurers,” she said.
Caleb backed down, relaxing into a neutral pose. “Are you wild? I didn't know anyone lived out here,” he said.
Cacnea ignored him, looking at the supplies strewn around the tree and the fearful expressions on Alex and Murkrow's faces. “Bury the blood before you leave. Leave no traces that would draw scavengers into my home.” Saying no more, she turned and shuffled in another direction without a backwards glance.
“Huh. Haven't met too many wild Pokemon before. At least she didn't chase us off,” Murkrow said.
“I thought we were gonna have to fight her,” Caleb said. He picked up his sack and started repacking it. “Ugh, I don't want to think about what punching one would feel like. Do you think it would drop more needles if I punched it?”
“Um, maybe? Wouldn't she have to grow them back afterwards? It might be more energy than it's worth,” Alex commented. He started repacking his bag as well, rubbing the blood-stained tweezers in the dirt to clean them. Then he tried cleaning off the few drops of Caleb's blood where it had dripped on him, noticing that the dried blood was uncomfortably close in color to his scars.
Caleb led the way again to Juniper Plateau, limping a little on his hurt foot. Orans took a while to heal, Alex remembered, and who knew if dried ones took longer to work or were less potent? Still, they made good time, with Caleb checking behind every rock for stickers or more cactus. Occasionally, he would call back to Alex, warning him about some stick or crack to avoid. Sometimes it was helpful, but Alex was understanding Caleb's movement in his mind's senses more and more, helping him to pick out exactly when he took an extra large step or moved to one side. Alex could crack his eyes open to see the obstacle before navigating it himself. After an hour of walking, they found themselves at the base of Juniper Plateau.
It wasn't sheer cliffs of solid rock jutting out of the ground like the Rainbow Mesa. It was sloped, with dirt and smaller rocks going down the edges. Alex pulled out the map. Just as planned, they had made it to the shallower slope on the north side. But even with the easier path, Alex wasn't sure he could make it. In some spots, he could see it would be nearly vertical rock climbing, and almost all of it was steep enough that he'd have to lean his hands on the ground for support. Murkrow flew up, surveying the path.
“Hey, it's about two hundred, umm, meters, I think Sergeant Rime called them. It's gonna be a long climb for you two,” he said.
Alex sat down on a conveniently sized rock. Two hundred meters? That was almost as tall as the Rainbow Mesa, except that it had stairs. They'd already walked so far; could he get to the top? His bag was heavy, pulling down his shoulders and cramping his tail.
“I'm... I'm not sure if I can make it to the top, Caleb,” Alex groaned. His arms were trembling, his feet hurt, and his head was stinging from the relentless rays of the sun.
“Alex, you can do it! What if I help you up? We've already come this far. And it'll be easier on the way down!” Caleb said.
That would still hurt. He still had to carry this bag that felt more full of rocks than useful tools. He couldn't ask Caleb to carry him, that would put too much work and pressure on his partner. What kind of explorer couldn't go on a short hike?
Or... could he teleport? Alex hadn't teleported somewhere while carrying anything, like his bag, and he certainly hadn't tried to go somewhere he hadn't already been or couldn't see. But judging by how tired he got from just one teleport, he couldn't make several smaller hops. It would have to be a straight shot. Forget any lost points for not going up the 'real' way-, Alex just wanted to be done with the mission.
“Hey, can't you teleport? Why not just skip climbing to the top?” Murkrow suggested. “It'd probably be even faster than me flying.”
“Um, I'm not sure if I can do that. I don't know how to aim that far away,” Alex said with uncertainty. “Maybe I can try to teleport to you at the top? If someone was there, I might be able to aim at them.”
Alex tried to sense Murkrow, who perched a few meters away from him. Maybe he could just go towards a psychic signal, and hope he wasn't too close to a bush or other painful landing. But as Alex tried to peer psychically, he saw only the barest sense of a presence. Across the void of his senses, Murkrow appeared as a slight movement, barely noticeable only if one were looking at it. Caleb, on the other hand, shone and projected; he glowed with vibrancy and personality.
Murkrow's Dark typing made him highly resistant to psychic attacks; Alex hadn't guessed that it applied to his psychic senses as well. Alex couldn't wait at the bottom with Caleb, and skip up when he was ready. He needed another plan.
“Um, that was a good idea, but I can't feel Murkrow very well. I'll have to point myself at Caleb. I don't know if it's your typing or if I just know Caleb better, but he's a lot easier to find. I guess I'll just watch you guys, and teleport when you stop moving. Or if I feel you getting too far away,” Alex said.
“Argh, this would be so much easier if one of us could just grab all three. I guess this is supposed to teach us teamwork, or something. We'll see you at the top, Alex,” Caleb said, straightening his bag and marching up the hill. Alex sat under one of the juniper trees, which had gotten more numerous as they approached the appropriately named plateau. Alex crossed his legs, reaching the meditative pose Psychic Gothitelle had taught him, and focused on the signature of Caleb, moving farther away and up the cliff at a quick pace. Alex watched it stop, sidestep one way or the next, and even go straight up at points. It was different trying to match up the perception of his psychic senses with what he saw with his eyes, though Alex dared not open them, fearing he might lose the signal.
Slowly, Alex started to notice other things through his psychic sight. Focusing on Caleb, he started to notice fuzzy outlines around him, hinting at handholds, ledges, and the slope of the ground. It seemed that he was slowly finding out how to 'see' the ground and environment through his mental senses, which alleviated Alex's fears somewhat about teleporting into another cactus or off the edge of the cliff. There wasn't time to experiment to see if this could work wherever he looked, or only around Caleb. If Alex lost his signal, he'd have to climb the whole cliff, lugging his pack full of stones.
Gradually Caleb's signal grew more distant and dimmer in Alex's senses. When he had been closer, individual handholds had been distinguishable once Alex knew how to look. Now there was only a dim sense of sloped ground, or rocky soil. But it was still enough for Alex to picture being able to teleport, though with effort. He'd gone farther than this in his first panicked teleport a week ago, according to Caleb. Hopefully an intentional one would be more reliable.
Another problem started to manifest: Alex was having trouble telling if Caleb was moving or not. Just like watching a traveler at a distance was difficult to see if they were standing or stationary, moving forward or backward, as the resolution of his senses were stretched, so did Alex's understanding of Caleb's position. For the last few minutes, he hadn't perceptively moved. The sense of his feet moving and walking had become muddy as well. Perhaps they had reached the top, and were simply waiting for Alex to join them.
It was a long jump, teleporting from his current spot to where Caleb stood, a fuzzy light in the dimness of his senses. Alex focused harder, trying to survey the area telepathically as much as he could over such a distance. When he felt as confident as he could, he focused not just on the area, but on going to that area. After a twisting sensation and the sensation of a hard landing after jumping off a ledge, Caleb's presence burned brightly in his mind, almost burning his psychic sense, like looking into the sun after spending an hour inside.
The tiredness hit him from teleporting so far in one leap. Alex stumbled as Caleb caught him in his strong arms. When Alex failed to rise, Caleb slowly lowered him to the ground.
“Are you alright? You made it!” he said. Alex struggled to stay awake, his body begging for rest from the day's exertions. He blinked his eyes open to see himself on the plateau, hundreds of meters above the valley floor. They were in a grove of juniper trees, twisted and gnarled, bent from the struggle of growing in the desert with little water. But up here, off the desert floor, it was cool enough for them to grow. They weren't tall trees by any means, but they stretched to the sky higher than the scrubby bushes at the bottoms of the cliffs.
Shade. There was real shade here, in the shadows of the trees. Alex had appeared under one of the larger trees, its dense needles blocking out more sun than the spindly branches of the half dead tree they had rested under in the dry riverbed.
“Umm, yeah, 'm okay,” Alex mumbled.
“This looks like as good a spot as any to rest for a bit. We're halfway done, so the way back should be easier, right? Let's eat some food, then we can get the scarves and head back down. Murkrow, have you seen Baltoy's group? I'm surprised we didn't catch them up here,” Caleb said.
“I haven't seen them for a while. They went up the other side of the plateau. I thought we'd meet them up here, but maybe they've already started heading back. I'm not sure how Girafarig got up those cliffs, though,” Murkrow said.
Alex pulled out the light meal stuffed into his pack- some dry bread and a few nuts and berries. He quickly fell into his trance as he ate, trying to store energy for the inevitable teleport down.
Barely a moment later, he felt Caleb's hand shaking him awake. “Come on, we have to get back before the afternoon, and we still haven't gotten the scarves,” he said.
Alex shrugged off his pack and got to his feet, wobbling. He'd drunk almost three quarters of his water by now, trying to wash down the meal, dried to preserve weight. All it had really seemed to do was stick in his mouth and make it hard to swallow.
As Alex stood up, he noticed that the shadow of the tree he had napped under had moved. He must have slept for at least half an hour. Caleb let him rest for longer than strictly necessary to eat and recuperate, but Alex still didn't feel ready to move on. But he could leave his pack on the ground to stretch out his shoulders and cramped tail for a bit; they were coming back in a few minutes anyway after they had gathered the prize. Alex followed Caleb as they made their way to the highest point on the plateau, on the opposite side they had ascended.
Compared to the flat, featureless plain they had walked on to get here, it was harder to navigate on the plateau. Instead of being able to see hills and mountains or orient themselves, the trees blocked visibility, and they were higher than most landmarks as well. Caleb looked at the shadows of trees to keep moving in a straight direction, while Murkrow soared above, looking for a flash of pink or green that stood out from the dusty browns of the trees and soil. Eventually, Murkrow let out a screech and hovered over one area in the distance, as if to say, “Come right here, I've found it!”
Caleb burst into a jog, while Alex managed to lengthen his pace and gain a little speed. A few minutes later, they found a clearing, three green scarves hanging on one tree.
Alex caught up to Murkrow, who perched on the tree with the scarves hanging off of it.
"Murkrow, have you seen Baltoy and the other group?” Caleb asked.
“Nope. But I didn't see the pink scarves either, so I think they're ahead of us. Pretty sure all the scarves were hidden at the same spot as ours. Maybe they're already back, we had to stop for a while when you stepped on that cactus,” Murkrow said.
“Yeah, I know. It still hurts, too. I think we might have missed a needle or something, because the Orans should have healed it up by now.” Caleb hopped on one foot, looking at the sole where they had pulled out dozens of barbs. No wound was visible; the berries had healed it over time. “I can't see anything, but it still stings. Maybe it's just not healed on the inside yet. I'll make it back okay, though.”
Caleb reached out and grabbed one of the scarves to wrap it around his neck. Then he tried to pass a second one to Alex.
“Ow!” he cried, jerking his hand away. “It stung me! They weren't kidding when they said we all had to get our own.”
Alex reached out for an untouched scarf, when Murkrow tapped him on the shoulder. “Before you put that one on, mind tying that to me? I can't exactly tie knots well with my beak,” he said. Alex fumblingly wrapped the cloth on Murkrow's leg, one end hanging down. With the hand-less member helped, Alex tied the last scarf around one arm, trying to hide one of his scars that seemed particularly big.
With a last glance around for any sign of Baltoy and their group, Alex trudged back to his pack, preparing for the long teleport down, followed by Murkrow and Caleb.
Without any hesitation, Caleb crouched his center of gravity to the ground, half sliding down the slope. Murkrow called out directions occasionally, warning of sharp drops or unstable gravel. Alex closed his eyes, feeling out psychically. There was Caleb, as strong and sure as ever, but could Alex find his own way down? He reached out, feeling the terrain. He couldn't perceive a wide area, only spots a little bigger than his body. So he could find a place that felt flat, without large rocks or plants in the way, but for all Alex could tell, there was a cliff an inch beyond his perception. Looking around psychically was so different from normal sight. There was no sense of distance, of scale. Caleb shone like a sun in the day, but all else was dim. Any spot he looked for in his psychic sight seemed disjointed, unconnected to other places.
Alex felt out farther and farther, trying to find the base of the plateau. Without Caleb acting as a beacon, shapes were indistinct at that distance. Alex opened his eyes, squinting over the cliff to find any landmark he could use to orient in psychic vision. He found a few spots that seemed similar to what he had seen psychically, a rock with a strange overhang, a tree that grew straight up without any branches. But none of them were at the bottom of the slope, where he needed to go. Scanning, Alex looked for anything that was unmistakable. Small details were fuzzy in the distance, shimmering in the desert heat. But... there. Two large rocks leaning against each other, directly below Caleb's descent. Alex reached out with his mind, glancing at pebbles and gravel, turning his pinprick of vision to find the recognizable area.
Here was a hard slope, and overhang... Alex followed it in his mind's eye. It seemed the same, like how the shape of a rock in his hands matched the shape of what he saw with his eyes. Taking a deep breath and pushing away the gnawing tiredness, Alex reached into the arch and teleported.
The temperature dropped; Alex could no longer feel the burning sun's intensity. Opening his eyes, Alex found himself in the half-cave he had seen from the top of Juniper Plateau. He'd done it! He'd teleported, just like Psychic Musharna had said he could! He wasn't a hero, or strong, or admirable by any means, but Alex felt an ember of confidence grow. He could at least be an Abra. Then the sleepiness hit him like one of Sergeant Graveler's punches. He wobbled, and sat on the ground in the blessed shade. Caleb continued to slide and climb down the cliff, sending gravel and sand down in puffs of dust. Who knew how much that would hurt on Alex's tender feet, had he tried to climb up and down. He closed his eyes, trying to keep a psychic eye on Caleb's progress as he descended. But he was too tired to trance, and fell deeply asleep.
“Hey! There you are! I kept looking for you at the top of the cliff, but you got down here on your own!” Murkrow's voice squawked. Alex blinked, half annoyed that he kept getting his rest interrupted, half ashamed he missed out on so much. But there was Murkrow, stretching out a wing in front of him.
“Ow,” he sighed. “Haven't spent this much time in the air for a while. Up and down, up and down, it's doing a number on my wings. Anyway, now we've just got to get back. I think I saw Baltoy about halfway there, but it's a little far to be sure. Brown, yellow, and green blend into the ground and plants out here.”
Alex shouldered his pack, coaxing a little psychic power to support his legs, his shoulders, and his tail to hold himself and pack up. The sooner they got back, the sooner he would be in real shade, cooled by the clay and rock walls of the Rainbow Mesa. He stepped into the sun and flinched. The sun was no longer bright and hot; it was blazing, burning into his eyes and skin. Alex slammed his eyes shut, relying on psychic navigation. Caleb could no longer be considered a shining star in comparison to the sun directly above them.
“Hey, you beat me down! I didn't think that was going to ever happen,” Caleb laughed. “But we gotta get going, it's too hot out here.” So they began the trek back to the Rainbow Mesa. The ground burned under Alex's feet, forcing him to keep moving, lest the bottoms burn on the rocks and sand. The sun made his skin prickle, signaling the start of a sunburn, especially on the top of his head and where his bag's straps didn't cover his shoulders.
Even Caleb was slower than the long strides he had taken in the morning. He limped softly on his right foot. Alex could barely explain how he noticed, but he could see something in his psychic senses that belied Caleb's determined expression as the hill at the midpoint grew closer.
The group had to take frequent breaks as well, when the sweat dripped from them in streams. But after a few minutes huddling in the sparse shade of a scraggly tree or pillar of stone, they had to keep moving. The sun only grew in intensity.
“Murkrow? Have you seen the other group recently?” Caleb asked at one of their stops.
“Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's them I was seeing. Looks like they’re taking a break now; I saw them go behind a rock and not come out. They're right next to that big hill we had to go around.”
“Maybe we can catch up to them, and we can finish together. This is... I dunno, harder than I thought. Sergeant Rime wasn't kidding when he said going off the roads was a lot worse than going on them,” Caleb said, panting.
Alex groaned in agreement. They turned in their course a little, moving toward the south side of the hill that they had traveled around. It wasn't much farther than they had gone on the way out, but any detour took them farther away from the blessed coolness inside the Rainbow Mesa.
As they neared the area Murkrow had pointed out, Alex began to notice others in his psychic sight. Instead of just Caleb, other Pokemon became perceptible on the eve of his awareness. There was Baltoy, feeling stiff and wooden but somehow with a sense of life. Then Alex felt something like two minds on one body. That had to be Girafarig. But seeing in his psychic sight made Alex realize something. Yomi, Girafarig's tail, was more aware and intelligent than Alex had expected. There was clearly a second mind in her body, rather than purely animal reactions.
Baltoy was facing Alex as they approached.
"I thought I felt another psychic focusing on me. I had been wondering when you would learn that basic skill," they said. "We are unable to move from our shelter. Fomantis has fallen ill, and cannot endure sunlight. I was of the understanding that grass-types like him needed sun, but I do not understand why he is harmed after he had started with such energy."
Alex, Caleb, and Murkrow found Girafarig and Fomantis huddled in shade beneath a rock. Deep furrows could be seen in the rocky soil; they had to dig down under the rock to create and expand this shelter. Girafarig nosed through her saddlebags, trying to find something that could help Fomantis behind her.
Fomantis wasn't looking well. His leaves had yellowed and crinkled with dryness. He was stuck in the thickest shade he could next to the rock.
“Any time he gets into the sun, he yells in pain. It's too hot for him to walk the rest of the way,” Girafarig said. "Baltoy was really hurrying, saying we needed to get back as soon as possible. But it started going wrong when we hit Juniper Plateau. First we had to find a way up, which made us have to circle around to the west side because someone didn't consider that I can't climb cliffs. I cracked one of my hooves trying to climb that rock. Then Fomantis started really lagging behind, we ran out of water, and now we're stuck here."
Alex pulled out his waterskin, with only a few swallows of water left in it. He held it out to Fomantis, who drank a sip, then poured the rest over his head.
“It is most peculiar. I had great vitality at the start. But after descending the plateau, malaise fell upon me. Now I can't endure this desert sun. I suppose my grass energy has been overloaded with sunlight, and I cannot take any more,” Fomantis said.
“You can't leave at all?” Caleb asked.
“No. It's as if... the sun is burning up my core from the inside. I've lost much of my strength, and this shade only blunts the sun's rays,” he said.
“What if we carry him? He wouldn't have to walk then, and we can get back so Physician Golduck can treat him,” Alex suggested.
Baltoy buzzed. “Who would carry him? My body is unsuited to such loads, and my movement would make him dizzy. You look like you're about to fall just carrying your bag. Murkrow is too small. Do you expect Girafarig and Machop to carry him the last three kilometers to the Academy in the hottest part of the day? Machop has been limping on his own, could he even take the extra load? ” Baltoy retorted.
“Umm, I don't know. But I don't think Fomantis can last much longer if we don't do anything. We don't have any more water, so I don't think we can wait until sunset for the desert to cool down. We've gotta do something,” Alex pleaded.
"No mail- carriers come out this way, and I haven't seen any other birds from Rainbow Mesa today. I'm not sure the Academy knows we need help," Murkrow added.
“I can carry him,” Caleb said with determination. “If that's what we need to do for our teammate, I can do it.” Caleb stood up, trying not to show the limp on his right foot. “If that's okay with him, at least.”
“I fear there isn't much other choice, Machop. It is embarrassing, but this is no soil that I can burrow in to regenerate. If I cannot walk, I must be carried instead,” Fomantis said.
Caleb drew out his coil of rope, making several loops around his shoulders and arms and across his back. He stuffed a blanket around the coils, making a shield from the sun. “Then climb on, and we can go,”
Fomantis shakily climbed into the coils of rope, pressing his scythes against his body. “I do apologize for the inconvenience.”
Caleb grunted as he straightened up. “Let's go, before I can’t carry him.”
“Murkrow, can you fly ahead and tell Sergeant Rime what's going on? You should be able to make it there and back quickly,” Alex said. He flew off, leaving the other five huddled in the shade.
Caleb stepped back out into the blazing sun. Fomantis groaned as the sun reached him and sagged into the makeshift harness. The hat he wore barely seemed to reduce the light hitting Fomantis' face.
It was sobering, seeing his teammate so ill. Caleb put on a determined expression, but Alex thought he could see Caleb's anxiety in the roiling currents of his psychic senses. The Academy hadn't exaggerated the dangers of this area. A simple excursion had turned desperate in only a few short hours.
Trying to lighten the mood, Girafarig said, “So? How are your apprenticeships going? Half of what I do is just pulling a plow or some other tool. Four legs makes it easier for that kind of work, but I'm terrible at weeding. I can't tell the difference between a wheat and a thistle seedling.”
Grateful for the conversation, Alex spoke up. “That's better than me. It's been a week, and I've managed to make one Escape Orb, and several dozen duds. It's worse than the lines Teacher Nidorina wants us to do, because one mistake, and you've got to start the entire blank orb again.”
“Surely you've memorized the requisite runes, then. Your performance should improve quickly,” Baltoy added.
“I wish. But there's a difference between knowing what it's supposed to look like and figuring out how to hold the tools so the orb doesn't bounce off the table and then having to hunt it down again,” Alex said.
“Hmm. I suppose that would be difficult. I am incapable of such dexterity. It has been a challenge aiming my telekinesis to turn the pages of books and to write in the scrolls. My limbs are damaging to the paper and parchment, according to Librarian Ambipom. But the volume of works and records is extraordinary. Riolu Rose of the Time Gear Crisis apparently reached Gold rank in less than a year after recruitment by Guildmaster Wigglytuff, and that's without counting their numerous honorary promotions due to their efforts in the Time Gear crisis. Perhaps we could see such achievements from you, Abra,” Baltoy said.
Alex shifted his pack uncomfortably, only to rub the straps on his sunburned shoulders. Caleb covered for him by speaking up. “Mine isn't nearly as exciting as your guy's. All I do is make tools and stuff. Sometimes basic equipment. Though, I guess it worked out. I knew what a harness looks like because I had to replace the straps on one the other day. One of the belly bands had been cut in half.” Caleb glanced back at Fomantis to make sure he was secure.
“Umm, was it leather, with the cut right in the middle?” Girafarig asked.
“Yeah, actually. Did Yomi bite it?” Caleb asked.
Girafarig glared at her tail. “Yes. Cost me 30 Poke to get it repaired.” She noticed Caleb limping more and more, his determination to help his teammates no longer able to hide the pain of the needle embedded in his foot. “Um, should I carry him for a while? Maybe you can put him next to the spines on my back. Or we can move him into one of my saddlebags.”
“You know? That sounds like a good idea,” Caleb said. A few minutes of shuffling supplies later, Fomantis sat in one of Girafarig's bags, hat covering him from the sun. Moving the ropes around, Caleb secured him in, covering him with the blanket. Once unloaded, Caleb stretched his back and shoulders.
Fomantis snuggled deeper into the bag, hiding from the sun, as one of his head-leafs curled up and dropped onto the ground.
The group stared at the leaf on the ground, so out of place to this plain of scrub-brush and cactus.
“We must hurry. This is not the season for leaf molting,” Baltoy said.
“For the first time today, I agree with you, Baltoy,” Girafarig said as she hurried the last kilometer to the sand basin where survival class was held.
Sergeant Rime was waiting for them, tapping his cane against the ground. Murkrow perched beside him, along with Physician Golduck.
“You've returned, all successfully. Come inside, quickly.” Sergeant Rime said as they approached the Academy. Gratefully, they all entered into the mesa, walls of clay and stone blocking out the heat of the day. Physician Golduck stood next to a table with several bags and jars on it. He lifted Fomantis out of Girafarig's bag and looked at his sunken eyes, the wilted leaves, and his spasming scythes.
“Yes, you've got sun-poisoning. Not a problem, very normal for grass-types. Here's a bowl of water; sit in it if you can bear it. Did you take any Rawst berries?” he asked, matter-of factly.
“That was the first thing we tried. But he had half of the pouch, and it didn't help at all,” Girafarig said.
Fomantis scuttled into the bowl just big enough to hold him, with a layer of water in the bottom. He sighed, relaxing. Almost immediately, the twitching stopped, his eyes reduced their dull luster, and his skin gained color.
“Well, that was a good guess, and ultimately non-harmful. But this isn't a burn. His grass affinity, first stimulated by the sun, gave him energy and power. His species particularly resists various harmful conditions in strong sunlight. But it has a limit, and continuing to absorb solar power leads to overload. He'll be fine in an hour with some cool air, shade, and water. Next!” Psychical Golduck called.
Caleb hopped onto the table, stretching his foot out. “I stepped on a cactus, and it feels like there's still a piece in there. I thought we got it all out, but after an Oran, it still hurts to walk on.”
“Very typical. Everybody around here does it once before checking where they step.” Golduck pulled a lens shaped piece of glass out of his bag, and a metal pair of tweezers. He held the lens up to his eye as he inspected Caleb's foot.
“Ah, a short-barbed cactus. Those have the smallest needles of any around. No wonder you couldn't find them all. Luckily, I have a magnifying glass. I will have to cut the skin to get it out. Machop, this will hurt a bit. Please hold still so my cuts aren't bigger than they need to be.” Physician Golduck turned the tweezers to one side that held a small blade, and sliced open the thick skin on Caleb's foot. Caleb sucked in a breath through his teeth as Golduck rooted around for the retained spines. One, two, three, four needles were plucked out of Caleb's foot. Golduck pressed a wet cloth against the newly opened wound until the bleeding stopped.
Caleb stood up, testing his foot. “Thanks! That feels way better!”
“Of course. Next!” Golduck said.
Feeling self- conscious, Alex stepped forward. “um, I'm not really injured. Is Fomantis okay?”
“He's in no real danger; he'll recuperate in time for his apprenticeship later. See? His leaves have already lost their wilt." Alex looked to see Fomantis' leaves slowly perking up, as he dumped more water into his bowl.
Physician Golduck continued. "As for you, you're moderately sunburned. Rub some of this Rawst paste on the top of your head, your shoulders, arms, and back. Get Machop to help you if there's a spot you can't reach. Actually, get some on him, too; the top of his head was rather red. Next!” Alex took the proffered jar, smearing the greasy paste into his skin. He almost hasn't noticed the pain, as worried as he had been for Fomantis. Alex rubbed some salve into the bottoms of his feet as well, where it was reddened from the burning rocks and sand. He noticed that his scars seemed particularly susceptible to burns, as they nearly glowed red where the sun had burned. Caleb helped reach the back of his shoulders, and Alex repaid the favor by covering Caleb's back in paste. The soothing was immediate, cooling off the burn and stopping the itching.
Girafarig was given a salve to soothe her chipped and cracked hooves, and Physician Golduck told her she needed to have her saddlebags adjusted to prevent sores. Baltoy, being an animated being of clay, seemed to be totally unaffected by the stresses and dangers of the desert. They slowly spun in a circle, apparently bored.
A few minutes later, Fomantis climbed out of the bowl, shaking water from his leaves. Though drooping softly, they had regained their color, and he stood tall, without shaking. Physician Golduck stepped away from Girafarig, whose hooves were covered in sticky salve.
Sergeant Rime gathered the Pidgey cohort together and began his lecture. "Now that you have all been examined and cared for, we will debrief your first mission. First, you have all returned with the required articles. If this were a bounty or mission from the board, this would be considered a successful completion, and would be logged as such. For those who thought this was too hard, that that was the simplest of exploration jobs. It was completed in half a day, required minimal traveling, and required no particular abilities, skills or talents. If you desire to be an explorer, this will be your daily life."
Physician Golduck continued the speech. "And for those of you who thought this unfair or dangerous, we were watching you the entire way. Those scarves are enchanted to know your condition. Once you put them on, they send us information on where you are and your health. But touching more than one causes unpleasant feedback, which makes them perfect for a test exploration. We need to be certain that you can handle the normal daily temperatures and weather, not to mention the unforgivable environment. before we send you into Mystery Dungeons or into the harsher wilderness. But take no fear: you survived today, and your bodies will adapt. In a week, if you continue this course, the sun will no longer burn you. For example, Fomantis, you will be able to endure the sun for longer than today. Those who were sunburned will have tougher skin tomorrow. But this strength only comes from pushing your limits. There is no other way to become stronger.”
Sergeant Rime faced Baltoy and pointed his cane at them.
“Baltoy, what did you learn or gain from today's mission?”
“I learned that organic Pokemon are more susceptible to the elements and environment,” they said without hesitation.
“Correct. But what did you learn from that?”
"I must consider my teammates' needs when making plans. I did not think of what my teammates were capable or incapable of.”
“Yes. You chose the shortest, theoretically most efficient way to the plateau, which is normally best. But you did not consider Girafarig's needs for a lower slope to avoid injury. Also, if you had taken longer and more frequent breaks for shade, Fomantis likely would have made it back on his own power. Had Machop's team not come when they did, it is possible you would have needed a rescue. Girafarig: what did you learn or gain from this mission?”
“Oh! I learned that I’m actually kind of strong. I almost didn’t notice the extra weight from carrying Fomantis. And that Yomi —Er, my tail, doesn’t actually attack everybody. He didn’t have any problem with Fomantis in my bags,” Girafarig said.
“Yes, your body and your abilities all keep you safe. I imagine your second mind mostly attacks things that are loud or startling. It’s likely trying to protect you from threats. Murkrow. How did your flying help your team today?” Sergeant Rime said.
“Uh, I could point out easier ways for Machop and Abra to go. It was annoying to have to dive down to communicate with them, then climb back up to the sky afterward. But it really helped when they were in tough spots to know which ways led to dead ends, and we wouldn’t have met back up with Baltoy’s team if I hadn’t spotted them,” he said
“Of course. Many teams like to have a flyer in reserve for those advantages you stated. Many of them decide on a series of calls or whistles to communicate over the long distances. Fomantis, now that you have recovered, what have you learned?” Sergeant Rime asked.
“Now I understand sun-sickness, and how to prevent and treat it. When I go on more expeditions, I must take breaks to not be caught up in the power of the sun,” he said.
“Good. As a medicine apprentice in training, you will have to recognize these kinds of things. Machop! Have you learned something from your experiences today, beyond the obvious?”
“I learned to not step in cactus. But, uhh, I should probably say something like, ‘pay attention to my surroundings,’ right?”
“That’s correct. You don’t want to fall in a pitfall trap because you didn’t notice the only leaves covering the ground in the desert, but you managed it today. Hopefully you won’t make the same mistake again. Abra: what skills did you practice that will help you future explorations?”
“Um, I learned to teleport better. I got up and down Juniper Plateau because I couldn’t climb it on my own. And I learned to see a little bit with my psychic senses. Umm, I know that’s not really something I learned for your class, it’s just something I should have known all along. But it’s all I can think of,” Alex said.
“That is certainly an improvement for you. Sometimes that’s a success for an explorer, to simply improve physically. Now that you have all recuperated, you may go to the cafeteria to eat, then spend the rest of the afternoon at your apprenticeships. Dismissed!” Sergeant Rime said.
The Pidgey cohort gathered their bags to carry them up four flights of stairs, then back down to eat before tiredly going the rest of the day.
