"Sparring?" Astra asked.

  Across from her the Scarred nodded, sipping carefully from a cup. He looked at her intently, gaze occasionally flicking around her home and lingering on her scattered team. Astra hadn't expected the Elder to call upon the consultation he'd mentioned so soon, nor had she expected to have to frantically recall Grandpa's lessons on how to host someone. Alas, he had gone out to show Rena around the village just a short while ago—the Alakazam not having had the chance earlier, what with Astra's recounting taking up the entire previous day.

  "Yes," he said, humming his approval at the beverage Astra had poured him; Pecha juice with a bit of hotroot powder. "My students and I have thought long on the meeting. Amongst other ideas, a prevalent thought is that we must make use of your limited time as best we are able. My spear-Kirlia need practice against trainer-led beasts, and both you and your troupe need more fighting experience."

  "I see," Astra said, giving the Elder an understanding nod and carefully hiding a grimace at the word beast. "It has been a while since I've had a really focused training session."

  The Scarred nodded to Aron. "And you just acquired a new member as well, if I recall correctly. It would be madness to eschew practice, especially since you must battle against the Gym Leader upon your return."

  "You don't need to try to convince me that hard," Astra assured the Elder, chuckling. "It's a good idea. Guys, are you up for some training today?" she asked, turning to look back at her team.

  Grovyle, standing just behind her, gave her a determined smile. Marill cheered excitedly from the floor, already bouncing in place and radiating anticipation. Slakoth murmured vaguely from the chair he was awkwardly draped over, uncaring but unopposed. Nincada, who was picking at Slakoth's furry back, stood to attention and chittered his unwavering assent. And Swablu and Aron both chirped happily, the latter pleasedly vibrating as the former's cloud-like wings polished her metal coat to a mirror-sheen.

  "Sounds like they're down!" Astra observed, smiling, and The Scarred sent her a pleased nod.

  "Excellent. I have set up a field for us to use nearby, and I've enlisted several of my students to assist. I am sure word has spread decently far by now, so I anticipate we will have spectators as well."

  Astra downed the last of her drink and rose from her seat. "That's fine. I've had to battle in front of crowds several times, and I imagine I'll have to do it a lot more often as I go."

  The older Kirlia nodded again in acceptance, and off they went.

  The training field wasn't much more than a big clearing, completely devoid of plant life and flattened by millennia of constant occupation. A big pile of wooden poles with mostly stone spearheads lay in a nonparticular corner, and a couple dozen wooden stakes were scattered around the edges of the space—some of them still sporting ragged grass-woven Poochyena facsimiles to act as target dummies. A sturdy chest containing emergency bandages and medicine was set near the nominal 'entrance', where a modest crowd of villagers were loitering around.

  The Kirlia, Astra had expected. The numerous spear-Kirlia stood out most, assumedly called here by the Scarred, while the rest she could hazard as just bored villagers looking for something interesting to watch. She did not expect the over-animated cast of Ralts chattering excitedly amongst themselves, though on reflection she wasn't sure why; she'd probably be right alongside them if someone else had done what she had.

  As much as her home and Humanity differed, the love of watching a good fight was apparently universal.

  As Astra, her team, and the Scarred approached the field the crowd of Kirlia shifted their focus, watching them with varying mixtures of interest, apprehension, and excitement. The spear-Kirlia straightened up upon spotting their Elder, not falling into any sort of uniform posture but simply readying themselves to act on anything he ordered at a moment's notice. One familiar Guard was amongst them, his visible anticipation marred by an undercurrent of incredulity and exasperation.

  The Ralts, on the other hand, cheered. A great exclamation of noise and excitement washed over Astra as a rather harried-looking Kirlia desperately stopped the teeming swarm from, well, swarming her. "Astra!" one of them called out excitedly, causing her to double-take at the accompanying ping.

  "Is that you, Pyre?" she called out, grinning as the exuberant Ralts waved excitedly at her. Looking over the rest of the Ralts, her smile widened as she recognized her old buddies. Wow, she really hadn't expected to see them here! Stars, she'd still been a Ralts the last time they'd talked, and with the whole rescuing Rena and her colony and yesterday's Elder meeting…event, she hadn't had a chance to seek them out. With all the chaos her life had become, they'd nearly slipped her mind completely!

  She wondered if any more of them had chosen names for themselves while she'd been gone; Pyre and a couple others had named themselves once they'd found out Astra had gotten a name—as well as what human names were, for that matter. She could spot Starsurge waving from the front, and Acorn was jumping up and down from the back, trying to catch a glimpse over the rest of the gang's heads.

  To her side, The Scarred shook his head. "I suppose a bit of preamble was expected," he mused with resignation. "Make your way to the field when you finish, but don't linger."

  She didn't need to be told twice! Astra dashed ahead, her team hot on her tail, and within moments she was center-stage of a whirlwind of excited Ralts. "Guys!" she yelled, laughing as she bent over to accept the giant group hug. "You're here! It's good to see all of you again!"

  "Astra! Astra!" Acorn exclaimed, waving a hand from the back. "How was the human world? Was it scary? Was the food good!?"

  "I can't believe you evolved faster than me!" Pyre complained, the Ralts punching her arm in mock-frustration. "I was supposed to go first! I can't be blazing a trail if I'm not up front!"

  "Oh my stars, look at that Taillow!" a nameless Ralts exclaimed, eyes widening in awe as Swablu soared overhead. "It's made of clouds!"

  Swablu peered down at her for a moment, cawing in displeasure. "Swablu! Swa swa!" she cried, landing on the Ralts' head and gently patting her face with her wings. "Blu!"

  "That's Swablu," Astra corrected, watching the Ralts laugh at her bird's gentle admonishments. "And yes, the human world was very scary! But it was also exciting, and I ate some very strange things. Most of them were tasty!"

  The crowd gasped in awe, and soon Astra was fielding an endless barrage of questions once again. This time, however, she simply laughed and waved them off.

  "Sorry guys, I'm super happy to see you all, but I can't answer everything at once!" she said. "And I don't want to keep the Elder waiting. But maybe I can do one more?"

  "Ooh!" Starsurge chimed in, waving his hand excitedly. "What's it like being a Kirlia!?"

  "Really?" Astra said, amused. That old question? She'd asked that same thing of other Kirlia more than once. There wasn't really any special Kirlia insight she had that other adults didn't, but she supposed it meant more that she was the first of their little group to have evolved. "Well, if you're sure…"

  The crowd nodded, eager faces leaning in to absorb every word. Astra huffed, smiling.

  "To start off with, I'm obviously taller now, and stronger," she said, casually spinning around and flexing her new strength, Psychic reserves as deep as a lake utterly eclipsing the puddle-like strength of her friends. "I've gotta tell you, getting your legs free of your coat is incredible! I can move so much more easily, I barely ever stumble, I can dance...it's just super nice."

  The crowd nodded, already having heard similar from other Kirlia. One Ralts, however, took her words comically harshly.

  "It should have been me, not her!" Pyre cried out, dramatically falling to the ground and pounding a fist against the dirt. "It should have been me!"

  Astra snorted. "You'll get there soon enough, I'm sure," she consoled, still smiling faintly. She'd heard of Ralts evolving from overwrought jealousy exactly like this, actually. Was he trying to invoke that? What a dummy; that sort of thing never worked if you tried it on purpose. It was more likely that he was just joking. Heh. "But you know about all of that already," she continued, scratching at her cheek as she thought. "The biggest change...I suppose it's that my mind got bigger, too."

  "We already know you got stronger—!" Starsurge protested, only to fall short when Astra shook her head.

  "No, not Psychically. I mean..." She hesitated. How to explain this? "There's...a lot that I'm thinking about nowadays. Ideas, concepts, and knowledge that I'm not sure I could have handled as well if I'd still been a Ralts." She thought back to her time in Dewford and deflated a little. "I still have a lot to improve on, but I think it would've been a lot worse off without having evolved. I feel like I just have a better capacity to work through things."

  It was a subtle benefit, but evolution happened when you needed it. When all the experience and stress of your life, neither good nor bad but formative, culminated in the pressing need for more. Breaking free of a form too small to hold what you were any longer—and growing into one that could. She wondered how Humanity could possibly cope with their tree-like life cycles.

  "How did you evolve anyway?" Acorn asked, having woven her way closer. "You were with humans, right? Was it scary?"

  "I evolved when I bested a really strong human in battle," Astra revealed. "Her name was Roxanne, and fighting her showed me that I still had a long way to go…but also that I could do it. That success wasn't impossible. Everything I'd been living through in the wider world condensed around that single bit of success, joy, and relief, and then—" she spread her hands in a small arc, a bright light flashing between them for a moment before slowly fading away, "—I evolved. I had to hide myself while it happened, of course, but aside from that it wasn't scary at all! Just, kinda inconvenient I guess."

  Having to figure out the height discrepancy had been very frustrating. Fortunately, that one seemed to have gone over much smoother than her apparent inconsistency with her human face.

  "Oh, but what about—!" another Ralts chimed in, before pausing as Astra held up a hand.

  "Sorry guys, but I think I've run out the clock here," she said, chuckling as the group visibly grew confused at the unfamiliar saying. "I'm here to train my team, and I'd better get started before we have an irritated Elder on our hands, yeah? Besides," she added, looking over at her team. "Don't you wanna say hi to my Pokemon?"

  The crowd brightened, and then turned to rush at the surprised quintet, Swablu chirping happily from atop one Ralts's head. Astra smiled as they began clamboring over everyone, Marill in particular voicing complaints and Nincada buzzing irritably.

  "Careful now!" Astra called after them. "They're nice, but don't give them too much trouble! Team, feel free to play around a bit, but try to do a couple exercises while you wait! I'll call you up when I need you!"

  That said, she gave a significant look to Grovyle, who perked up. He chirped, pushing through the crowd to stand at Astra's side, preening when she stroked his head. "Hey Grovyle!" she exclaimed, smiling. "Feels like it's been a while, huh? You ready for some serious practice?"

  Grovyle nodded, straightening up as Grass-energy thrummed across his body. "Grove!" he said, emanating anticipation and determination.

  Astra nodded, a smirk crossing her face as she turned to walk towards the training field. "Let's show them all what we can do!"

  The Scarred's eyes scanned Grovyle carefully as they approached, the wizened Kirlia leaning on his spear. To his side stood a rather recognizable Guard; the Kirlia gripped his own spear casually, the haft resting on his shoulder while his other hand raised and gave her a wry wave. Astra's lips quirked, and she returned the gesture, faintly glad to see yet another familiar face.

  She'd had a lot of experience with him. In a way, it was the Guard's fault that she was where she was now; if he hadn't regularly let Astra sneak out to go get berries from a 'special hidden plot'—Route 102, unbeknownst to him—then her near-capture and subsequent journey to Petalburg never would have happened. And he'd rescued her when she'd been attacked by Poochyena, and been the one to first greet her just a few days ago when she'd returned from Dewford. He'd also taken care of her team while she'd been busy gathering the Elders, visiting her grandfather, and then rescuing Echo—now Rena. Laying it all out like that…he really had contributed a lot, hadn't he?

  The Guard grinned at them as they approached, lifting his spear off his shoulder and giving it a theatrical twirl before shoving the butt into the earth.

  "Astra, Little Green!" he called, smiling. "Come back to visit me again? It's almost like you miss me."

  Despite herself Astra snorted. Little green? Was he talking about Grovyle? Judging from the annoyed growl from her partner, yes he was. "As if," she retorted, shaking her head. "Why would I ever miss your lazy bum?"

  "Oi, oi, why do you gotta be so ungrateful?" the Guard complained, pouting. "I rescued you from a pack of dogs, escorted you to that lab, treated your team to a top-class dinner, and this is the thanks I get?"

  "I can appreciate that you've done me some important favors and still think you're lame," Astra said, smirking. "I mean, what kind of upstanding guard naps at their gate and lets a Ralts bribe them with a handful of Oran?"

  "Ack!" He recoiled like he'd been stung, but his smile never faded. "Such vitriol! I'll let you know that I'm no slacker!" he proclaimed, puffing up. "I'm one of the village's best spearmasters! I earned a metal spearhead a mere half-dozen seasons after I evolved!" He waved to the other spear-Kirlia idling around the training ground. "I've beaten these other dullards in the ring dozens of times each! Lame? I'm flaming hot! C'mon, Little Green," he said, looking toward Grovyle. "Back me up here!"

  Grovyle's irritation spiked at the nickname. Unprompted, he hocked up a Bullet Seed and spat at the Guard's face.

  Unphased, the Guard idly brought down his weapon, the end shining with Psychic power. He spun around, catching the Bullet Seed on the flat of his spear, then completed the maneuver by flinging the seed right at Grovyle's feet. A small plume of dirt shot into the astonished Pokémon's face, and Astra was left staring at the completely calm Guard while her partner coughed on dust.

  "Fighting's a lot easier when my opponent doesn't completely nullify all my tricks," he stated, idly rolling back his shoulders. He grinned at her, spear flaring with light. "Pretty cool, right?"

  Very. But like hell was he ever going to know. "I've seen cooler," she lied, shrugging. "And, 'flaming hot'? Please, at best you're—" she started, glancing at his form—stars above his arms were thick. What in the world!? And his legs! He could probably carry Aron around with tree trunks like those! Where had all this come from? Had he always looked like—she hadn't talked for three seconds.

  "—fine!" Astra absolutely didn't yelp, quickly turning around and waving dismissively. "Only alright. Below average, even—"

  "Sure, sure, you keep tellin' yourself that," the Guard said, his voice taking on a smug, surprised-yet-teasing lilt. "But that red sheen on your face says something else~"

  A thrum of Psychic power shot through the air before Astra could respond, her embarrassed fury curtailed by an exasperated harumph from the Scarred.

  "Enough of this," he said, slamming the butt of his spear into the ground again. "Flirt in your own time." ("I was not!" Astra protested.) "We only have so much daylight to spare. Astra," he barked, looking toward the girl. "You will send one of your subordinates to battle my student in one-on-one combat. After I am satisfied that I know their capabilities, I will devise a regime for them to practice both here, with assistance from my other students, and in general for when you must depart. This will include general exercises as well as ways to train techniques and possibly develop new ones. We shall repeat this for each of them. Is this understood?"

  Astra glanced at Grovyle, who was giving the Guard a begrudging look of respect even as he wiped at the dust on his face. Seeing no issue, she looked back to the Elder and nodded. The Scarred waited for another moment, but when no followup came he gestured to the field.

  "Well then, let us begin."

  Seed the ground, cut the chaff.

  Grovyle rocketed forwards, brilliant green energy weaving around his mouth. Rearing back, he spat, a condensed Bullet Seed shooting at the Guard.

  The spear-Kirlia raised his weapon to deflect the projectile, but Grovyle hadn't aimed at him, and so it did nothing to stop the pellet from impacting the packed earth in front of him. The seed burrowed into the soil and burst, flinging a gout of debris right into the Guard's face.

  The Kirlia swore and shook his head, still blinking even as Grovyle darted in from the side and leapt, the trio of leaves on his wrist gleaming emerald. He descended, his Grass Cutter flashing downward and slicing—

  The Guard casually raised his spear, catching the attack on the shaft, the blade barely scratching the hardened, Psychic-infused wood. The attack had barely finished when the Kirlia suddenly let go of his spear, one hand flashing out to grip Grovyle's other arm. The Guard heaved, spinning around and dragging the shocked Pokemon through the air before slamming him onto the ground in one swift motion.

  Grovyle bounced, a pained cry erupting from his mouth as the air was forced from his lungs. The Guard tensed, as if waiting for a followup, before relaxing a moment later.

  "Well that was rude," he mentioned, carefully wiping the grit off his face. He nodded at Astra, smiling. "But you're going to need more than a single surprise to take me down."

  Astra frowned, hands twitching for lack of an instrument. Part of her grew more than a little anxious at the casual ease the Guard had dealt with her attack, and she had to remind herself that they were here to practice and improve, not to win. "Well, we're not out of tricks just yet!" she called back, again wishing she had her violin to play a dramatic chord on.

  "Grove!" Grovyle concurred, jumping to his feet.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  "Bring it!" the Guard challenged, readying his spear once again.

  Right, time to get serious. Leer, then quickstrike-slash-shot!

  Grovyle's eyes sharpened, yellow eyes flashing a piercing red as they bored into the Guard. The Kirlia tensed, eyes widening and limbs twitching ever so slightly as his body took on a faint, unhealthy pallor.

  "Tch, wanna play nasty, huh!?" the Guard scoffed, horns flaring with power. With a bright flash two copies of the Kirlia leapt out, and as one they levelled their spears. "Let's see you hit me now!" he said, all three of him grinning ferociously as they began to charge.

  But Grovyle was undeterred. He lowered himself down, stomped a single clawed foot into the dirt, and with only a fraction of a moment's hesitation—left—he all but vanished, shooting forth with only a trail of afterimages in his wake. The Guard on the left only had a moment to widen his eyes before Grovyle smashed into his hip, grunting in pain as the two illusions dissipated into purple motes.

  Teeth grit, the Kirlia twisted with the momentum, bringing down his spear in a fearsome slash—only to meet one of Grovyle's tails halfway, the Grass-type having spun in the exact same manner. Spear met Grass Cutter once more, and this time the blade sunk a fraction more into the haft, but the Guard held firm.

  With a cry the Kirlia flung Grovyle's tail-blade down—only to see his second tail coming in hot. Swearing, the Guard quickly raised the back haft of his spear, awkwardly forcing the attack away.

  Which left him in no position to react when Grovyle completed his spin, mouth glowing a brilliant emerald. The Grass-type puffed up, then spewed forth a hail of Bullet Seeds directly into the Guard's face.

  Whereupon they abruptly ricocheted off a small Psychic barrier—for fucks sake!

  The Kirlia smirked at the gaping shock etched on Grovyle's face. "Nice try, Lil' Green," he taunted, raising his spear once again. "But if you want to defeat me, go train for another hundred seasons!"

  Astra's eyes widened. He was too close! Quick Attack, throw him off balance!

  "Triple thrust!" the Guard unnecessarily called out, two Psychic replicas of his weapon flashing into existence even as Grovyle's shoulder slammed into his own. A deep bruise rapidly formed across his arm, but the grinning Kirlia didn't even flinch. "Take this!"

  Get back!

  Grovyle lept backwards, but before his feet could even hit the ground, the three spears thrust—

  Astra shrieked, recoiling as a glowing spearpoint suddenly appeared fractions of an inch from Grovyle's eye. The Grass-type froze, and she could see one copy pointed directly at his throat and the other lightly scraping his chest.

  They stood there for a heart-pounding moment, and then a piercing whistle cut the air as The Scarred declared the bout finished. The Guard relaxed, retracting his spear and dispelling the copies. Astra let out a breath, frowning to herself even as cheers began to ring out from the crowd. Even if she knew she wasn't likely to win, did it have to be so one-sided? At least she had gotten a couple of hits in; she would have been very irritated had it been a complete rout.

  "Nice moves," the Guard complimented as Astra approached, grin easing into something more easy-going as he planted his weapon in the dirt. "That second tail-blade was nasty, and that followup? I bet you're terrorizing all those poor humans out there."

  "Vy," Grovyle grumbled, scratching at his chest where the spear had poked him. He glowered at the Guard for a second longer, then his expression relaxed a fraction. "Vyle, grovyle," he said, nodding respectfully to the Kirlia in return. The Guard's smile widened and he held out a fist. Grovyle gave it a flat look, but nonetheless bumped it with his own, to which his opponent heartily cheered.

  "Well, I'm glad you're...getting along?" Astra asked, somewhat confused by Grovyle's behaviour. First he didn't like the other Kirlia, and now he seemed friendlier after getting beaten? That...well, actually, she'd seen that a lot before; she'd even been on the other side of it when she'd captured Nincada. It still didn't really make sense, though. She shook her head and began checking her teammate over, running a hand over the scales on his back and carefully examining the points where he'd been held at spearpoint.

  "Just a minor scrape or two," she concluded, relieved. "Good job, Grovyle!" She scratched him just under his chin and smiled as the Grass-type released a quiet, almost inaudible chirp as he leaned in to the touch.

  "It was an admirable showing," The Scarred concurred, walking up. "But a mere few clashes is not enough to determine where it is best to improve, nor do layered tactics give an idea of how sound your basics are. It is good to utilize the breadth of your options as required, but it is more important that each of those options has been honed as best as you are able."

  "So keep it more straightforward, then?" Astra checked, a little put out. One of her best advantages was being able to call out multiple orders at once.

  The Scarred sighed. "Yes. I am beginning to realize that this will not be especially easy for me, Astra. I know a thousand ways to make a Kirlia a force which can challenge even Mightyenas, but your team—" He looked at Grovyle, then turned to peer at the rest of Astra's team, who were being harassed by the cast of Ralts. "—are decidedly not Kirlia," he observed, dryly. "They do not use spears, they are not even Psychic—I will do my best to help, but this is unfamiliar territory. We do not have time for complex, so we must keep it simple. At best I can pass down what I have seen strong wild Pokemon use in the past."

  He paused, eyes widening in realization. "I had always wondered what happened to the Shiftry in the distant woodlands. War, was it?" The Scarred's gaze grew distant for a moment, lost in hazy memory. He blinked, scrutinized Grovyle, then finally turned away. "Hmfh. Humans. I will not allow it to happen here. Resume sparring when you are ready."

  Astra and the Guard looked at each other as the Elder walked away. They shrugged.

  "Again?" The Guard asked, stepping back and readying his spear.

  Astra nodded, leaving the arena while Grovyle crouched down, Grass energy already flowing across his body.

  "Again."

  They fought for several more rounds before The Scarred was satisfied with what he'd seen. Then, afterward, he'd started asking questions.

  How many times could Grovyle use Grass Cutter in a row? About a dozen. How many Bullet Seeds could he shoot at once? Five. Was he sure that Absorb was limited to melee? It turned out that Grovyle could, with a pinch more Grass Energy and a hitherto untried flex of his wrist, fire the needles and, through them, drain his enemies remotely at the cost of absorption inefficiency. It had also become much stronger recently, the evolved Pokémon having refined the attack at some point into a higher form.

  "There's more he should be able to do with that verdant power of his," The Scarred said to Astra. "I've seen Nuzleaf throw around sharpened leaves and I recall a great Lombre in the far past that seemed to pull energy from the forest itself to attack with a sort of Grass-type Psychic Sphere. Thoughts to keep in mind for the future. For now, I think I have something that will be very useful for him."

  He walked to Grovyle and sat before him, motioning the shorter creature to join him on the ground.

  "There is a common assumption many make when we begin to explore how we use the energies within ourselves and the world," he began. He raised a hand, lighting it in a Psychic glow. "We Kirlia are especially attuned to Psychic forces, the power coming to us far more easily than any other. But the trick in that sentence is subtle: it comes to us easier than any other, but we are not limited to Psychic energy at all."

  The Psychic attack disappeared, the Scarred's brow furrowing as he concentrated. A brief, awkward silence followed where absolutely nothing happened. Then, to Astra's amazement, a brilliantly shining leaf appeared, floating steadily above his hand with nary any Psychic energy to be found.

  "There are some in our village who possess this odd ability to channel Grass," he said, face screwed up in visible exertion. The leaf swivelled, and then flashed forward to lodge itself into one of the dummies littering the field. The Scarred breathed out, shaking his head as the small leaf disappeared into sparkles. "It certainly feels odd, using a move not aligned with one's own being, but it is possible. For another example, one family in the village possesses a knack for wielding Fire to forge metal.

  "All of this is to say," he continued, looking Grovyle in the eye, "that though you are aligned with Grass, there is no reason you cannot learn to utilize Psychic energy like we can. And while any attack you might learn would be anemic at best, I am much more confident that self-enhancement will serve as a much finer tool."

  Grovyle leaned forward, eyes sparkling as the Elder began to speak about using Psychic energy to more efficiently align the mind and body so as to enhance one's Agility…but Astra tuned it all out, staring at the small slash the glowing leaf had left in the dummy.

  She looked away, examining her hands speculatively. Could she...? Concentrating, Astra closed her eyes and...hm. She'd never tried to use another Energy before; how did it even work? Maybe if she thought Grassy thoughts? Plants, leaves, roots, trees, green, growth, grass...

  But nothing happened. Maybe some sort of...tingle? Like she'd slept on her hand wrong. But the feeling vanished as soon as she acknowledged it. Had it even been real?

  Letting out a sigh, she dropped her hands and turned away. It was a long shot anyway, and it wasn't like it was particularly useful. Detrimental, even. She'd been lucky that some humans were Psychic; she'd just missed the signs that they existed or misinterpreted the topic anytime anyone asked her about it. She very much doubted that everybody had somehow also completely left out Grass-humans or something as well. May had said that humans didn't have Types; she'd glossed over Psychics for some reason, but she hadn't felt like she was lying.

  Astra left the Scarred and Grovyle to their lesson; she wasn't fight-crazy enough for her to learn that sort of technique, so it was a bit of a waste of time to try. But just hovering around felt awkward, so it was about time she checked up on the rest of her team—who had alternately been performing a set of light exercises, or been pampered by the ever-excited cast of Ralts while they waited. Peering closely, she saw an extremely put-out Marill admirably tolerating an absolute barrage of petting and prodding, the Ralts cooing over her blubbery body and the odd, tough-yet-watery texture of the ball on her tail.

  "Marill! You're up next," Astra called, chuckling as the rotund Pokemon cheered in impatient relief. Marill dug herself out of the rabble, bounding over to Astra and squeaking excitedly. "Rill rill ma ri ma!" she said, literally rolling to a stop at her feet and waving her arms about. "Rill ma!"

  "Yes, yes, sorry to keep you waiting," Astra apologized, smiling. "He's just finishing up with Grovyle; I think we'll be out there in the next five minutes. Ten, tops."

  "That was so cool!" Pyre shouted, he and many of the other Ralts following Marill's stead in charging up to her. "Is that what all human trainers do?"

  "I've never seen a Grass pokemon fight like that!" Acorn said, eyes shining brightly. "And even the Elder made a glowing green leaf! I wanna do that!"

  "Weren't you supposed to win!?" another Ralts called out, frowning. "Mom said you're trying to fight all the human leaders, right? How're you supposed to do that if you can't beat a guard?"

  The whole cast erupted into further questions once again, and Astra rubbed her neck, grinning awkwardly.

  "Wow, could you calm down a little, guys? It's hard to understand you when you all talk at once like that! But, yeah, this is what a trainer does!" she said. "I can't win all the time, but Grovyle is still really strong. He evolved just to beat up a massive Pokemon called 'Exploud' and save my skin a single day after I won my first badge; though Marill and Slakoth helped Grovyle out for that one since he had still been a Treecko —"

  "Why doesn't he have a name?"

  Astra stopped, her thoughts crashing on the shore of her mind. She looked to Starsurge, the macabrely-named Ralts peering at her oddly.

  "...What?" Astra asked.

  "You keep calling him 'Grovyle'," he said, tilting his head. "But that's just what he is, not his name. It'd make sense if you were using his mental signature, but you aren't doing that either. Grovyle can't be his actual name; it'd be like if I named myself 'Ralts.' So—"

  "It'd be better than what you've got now," Acorn muttered, cutting in. "Having a butcher and a pyrekeeper for parents made your sense of style really weird!"

  Starsurge gasped, a familiar outrage twisting his expression. "It is not weird!" he shouted, face turning red. "I'm just the only one here who can really appreciate endings! Besides, I bet Astra's seen way crazier stuff from humans by now, right?"

  "I've never met a single human who tried to stick so many bones on their dress that they looked like a scrimshaw's nightmare," Astra idly responded, turning over the Ralts' question in her head. A name, huh?

  She hadn't known many other trainers to give their Pokemon names. In fact, she only recalled a handful. A Zigzagoon from her first excursion into Petalburg; Peeko, Mr. Briney's Wingull; Tung, Stevens Aggron; and...well, she supposed Rena's Mawile counted, even if she couldn't really pronounce it. She hadn't heard Steven call his Skarmory a specific name either, so it wasn't even consistent for the same person.

  Surely there was some rhyme or reason for it all, but on the whole it didn't seem that common. Perhaps a Pokemon was only given a name if they and their trainer were...sufficiently emotionally close? No, that didn't make sense; humans could be callous but she doubted that the hypermajority of trainers she'd faced had all been that distant from all of their Pokemon. Maybe it was just a privacy thing? Or maybe she should stop thinking in circles about weird human culture shit. But the overall question still intrigued her.

  "What would his name be...?" Astra mused to herself, looking over to where Grovyle was sitting, the Grass-type's skin faintly flickering with Psychic power.

  Around her, the Ralts perked up as one and immediately began barraging her with suggestions.

  "Woody!" "Grassy!" "No, Trunk!" "Branch?" "Bush!" "Wha—he only has a single piece of hair, how does bush make any sense!?" "Shut up!" "Grove?" "That's still as bad as being named 'Ralts'!" "Turf?" "Uh...meadow?" "Ooh, Blade!" "Blade?" "Yeah, like, 'blade of grass.'" "What? That barely fits at all!" "Why are these all plant themed?" "'Cause it's gotta be!" "Leaf!" "That one's taken." "What?" "I found a Seedot with a leaf on her stem last week and named it!" "You can't just keep a whole name all to yourself!" "I-I'm willing to share Acorn, if—" "No!"

  Astra hummed. No, none of those fit at all. Keeping on-theme with plants would be neat, but there weren't too many options. Bark? No, he wasn't loud. Tree? He'd started out with that; it'd be like naming a Kirlia 'Ralts'. Hm. But he wasn't a lone tree, was he? He was part of her team; the sapling she'd been given and had planted in the loam of her life. Marill, Slakoth, Nincada, Swablu, Aron...in this metaphor, they were trees, too. Grovyle had been the first, but now he was the centerpoint of a burgeoning...not a forest, but—

  Oh.

  Oh!

  Astra lit up, the surrounding Ralts immediately noticing and falling silent in eager anticipation. Astra ignored them, watching as Grovyle finally began to shimmer with the tell-tale sign of a successful Psychic technique.

  "Hey," she broadcast, catching her companion's attention. He jerked to his feet and turned to face her, his motions a near-blur as his body followed his commands half-again as fast as before. "Good work!" she praised, smiling as the Grass-type stood a little straighter. "That'll come in handy in the future; the other Pokemon won't even know what hit them. But, not to brush that aside, my friends brought up an interesting point, so I wanna ask you a question.

  "Do you want a name?"

  Grovyle blinked, confused. Then his eyes widened, and then he—Astra snorted, barely stopping herself from bursting out into full laughter. He was nodding, but his still-active Agility had accelerated the motion such that his face had turned into a vague green smear.

  "Alright then," Astra said, allowing herself a light chuckle. "I thought up a good one just now, so tell me...

  "How do you like the name 'Glade'?"

  Glade's expression bloomed like a flower, warm and radiant. "Grovyle!"

  "Oh, that's a good one!" Acorn exclaimed, the other Ralts chorusing in agreement.

  "I'm glad you like it," Astra said, smiling warmly. Glade exulted in the moment for a bit longer before The Scarred, having looked on in amused patience, interjected with a sharp ping. He began to direct the freshly named Grovyle over toward a trio of unfamiliar spear-Kirlia, who would be handling the rest of his practice today.

  Astra watched him go, sighing fondly. Shaking her head, she looked down to Marill, nodding toward the field. "Alright Marill, let's—uh."

  Marill stared up at her, eyes almost comically watery. Her tail thrashed wildly behind her as the biggest, angriest pout the Kirlia had ever seen inaccurately graced her features.

  "Marill!" she whined shrilly, stamping her feet while furiously pointing to herself. "Mar mar rill riiiiii!?"

  Astra blinked in confusion for a moment before understanding dawned. "Oh, you want a name too?"

  "Rill rill!" Marill affirmed, seemingly mortally offended that Glade had gotten one first. She waved her stubby arms around, fierce chittering filling the air as the Water-type began demanding what Astra could only hazard was a 'better' name than what he'd gotten.

  Excited muttering began anew as the Ralts started to debate on what the 'best' name for Marill would be, and Astra noticed that the rest of her team had perked up as well, all staring at her in hope or curiosity. Did everyone want a name? Heh, well, it was only right of her to oblige them.

  "Alright, alright, I'll think of a name for you and everyone else too," she agreed, grinning down at a now-cheery Marill. "But we have to go demonstrate your skills right now. C'mon," she said, starting towards the training field, Marill bouncing along beside her. "We'll go show everyone just how cool you are, first.

  "And afterward, we'll see about giving you a name."

  Hm. Hm hm hm.

  Names.

  They're funny things. A sound to indicate a specific being. Often they mean other things as well, but—at least in english—you never really know what most of them mean unless you go look it up. A lot of them are religious in nature, or perhaps trace themselves back to other languages.

  But that's just for people. The thing is, when you name a pet, you can be a whole lot stupider and it's perfectly fine. You can use something with a deep meaning, something mundane—or you can make it a total joke! I'm certain there's a cat out there named 'Miss Fluffysaurus' which would be objectively insane on a person but because it's a cat it really just doesn't matter. That doesn't stop people from naming their own kids—or themselves—poorly, but the consequences between the two are very notable in that naming a pet something stupid has none and, in fact, can be beneficial.

  All that is to say, you gotta name people something! It would be very silly if you didn't. Imagine not giving, say, an entire god-damned village names and then trying to differentiate between otherwise identical-looking inhabitants in prose! Why the utter fuck would you—

  Ahem.

  Say, if you had the choice (you don't), what sort of nicknames would you give Astra's team? I have my own ideas, of course, but it's interesting to hear others opinions.

  I had hoped to get through Astra's entire team, but it's been a bit since I published and I miss the momentum from earlier this year, so I decided to cut myself off after the first spar. I think the next chapter will have very compressed repetitions of the above for the remainder of the party, and then maybe Astra also goes out to party. (I would like to remind everyone at this juncture that since evolving into a Kirlia, and excepting that she's not gone through a specific celebratory milestone, Astra is now culturally an adult.)

  We're not going to get too much more from this trip to the village overall; two or three post-spar scenes, I think. We need to get back to Dewford soon. That said, omakes are always welcome! Wanted to see how they do X here? Do they have Y? I dont have the time for it, so you tell me! It's fun for everyone. (Note: This line is more applicable to the SpaceBattles and SufficientVelocity forums than Ao3 or RoyalRoad.)

  Talk to me on Update my !

  Thanks as usual to my editors Fuzzy, Cat, Slain, and Irony.

  Thank you for reading, and tell me what you think! (Especially the nicknames.)