Chương 53: Apparently, friends

In practice, there were very few things you actually needed to do to care for an egg. Most would hatch simply from being carried around. After all, they drew what they needed from the nutrients contained inside, the ambient Aura in the environment, and a small amount of the appropriate type energy. You didn't need to do anything extra—at least, not unless you got unlucky. To put it simply, there was a reason she'd been allowed to keep Queenie's egg, even as young as she'd been back then.

There just wasn't much that could go wrong. Of course, that wasn't to say nothing could. Eggs weren't fragile, but they weren't invincible either. A lack of Aura had been shown to cause stillbirths, and insufficient type energy would, at best, result in the hatched Pokémon being unusually weak at first, and at worst, leave it permanently struggling to generate its own type energy. So, after the Grass Kingdom, having the egg checked over was simply prudent.

Doubly so since, with the discounts most Pokémon Centers offer trainers on the circuit, it wouldn't even cost much. So it wasn't like she was worried or anything. Not at all.

"Hmm." Cynthia felt the hand holding hers clench hard enough that she normally would have reacted—if not for the fact that she had gripped it even harder in return. Half an hour—that was how long the doctor had been sitting there, slowly going over the results from the various tests he'd run, not bothering to say a word. Every so often, he would frown, looking like he was about to speak, only to close his mouth again. So, no, she wasn't worried. But she was starting to get really, really, frustrated.

"Do you—" Myst started again, but before he could get even one word out the doctor raised his hand, silencing him. Silencing him for the fifth time. Something in Cynthia finally snapped. She understood that doctors needed time to interpret results, but holy shit, how hard could it be? If they needed to wait, fine. But if it was going to take freaking days, then why not have them come back when it was actually done? Sitting there like this, forced to worry that something might be terribly wrong, was pure torture.

"Is this going to take all day?" she snapped.

"Because if it is, I'd rather leave." The doctor paused, visibly thrown, then slowly looked up at her with a flat expression, as if he could hardly believe she had spoken to him that way.

"If you would rather not receive my help, that is your choice. But if you do want it, then I need time to understand what these results are telling me." Cynthia felt Myst squeeze her hand, a silent warning to cool off. She ignored him.

"Of course we want your help. But if the results are that difficult to interpret, we could wait in the lobby. We could come back tomorrow. Hell, we could even help you figure it out if something that happened to the egg caused what you're seeing," Cynthia bit out. The doctor merely raised an eyebrow.

"If you'd rather wait in the lobby, you could have just said so. As for asking for your help…" He gave a small shake of his head.

"I prefer to organize my thoughts before involving others. And even if I had asked, any conclusions you might draw about its condition would be purely speculative. This isn't a question of your ability as trainers—it's a matter of background. Neither of you has the training or the academic foundation to assist me."

"We might not know what's wrong with it, but there's a reason we brought it in—and it's not just because we happened to stay somewhere with a heavily skewed type-energy concentration. You could at least ask us what we know." The doctor carefully set the chart down on his desk.

"You are not listening to me. I understand your frustration, and I can assure you I did not intend to take this long, but there is nothing you could tell me. Now, are you going to let me finish examining the chart, or will I have to ask you to leave?" Cynthia almost let out a dark laugh as she stared at the doctor. How dare he— She opened her mouth, a fraction of a second away from telling him she would sooner trust a Bidoof's opinion than his, but before she could get a single word out, Myst shot her a look.

Her mouth snapped shut. In another world, one where she had been the one responsible for the egg, she would have told the doctor exactly where he could shove his conclusions. But she wasn't. Myst was. In other words, she didn't get to make decisions about it any more than he was allowed to make decisions about Queenie. So, with visible effort, she tried to force her frustration down. Bury it. Choke it back. Take it out back and have Queenie slowly breathe dragonfire on it. …

It being suspiciously doctor-shaped, and holding a chart. From the way Myst's expression shifted, from a warning look to something closer to a strained, uneasy smile, she clearly didn't manage it entirely. He turned back to the doctor a touch too quickly.

"Okay, shot in the dark, but judging by your reaction, I'm guessing the issue is that you've never seen anything like this before. So is it something to do with the egg's type energy? Like Ghost or Normal mixed in with the Dark-type or something?" The doctor, whose expression had been completely dismissive, froze at his words. For a second, he just stared at Myst like he'd grown a second head.

"…How did you know?" Myst stared back.

"Wait—that was right?" The doctor's gaze dropped to the chart, then to the egg resting on his desk, before flicking back to Myst.

"…For checkups like this, we primarily look at the amount of type energy an egg contains, as well as its Aura," he said, almost absently. Then he lowered the chart, pushed it across the desk, and turned it around for them to see.

"Your egg shows no issues on either front. If anything, given the amount of Aura the Pokémon inside has accumulated, it should have already hatched. The other tests we ran on its overall health also came back normal." He paused, looking up at them.

"But we also run additional standard tests. The most important of these determines what type energy the egg contains. After all, as you undoubtedly know, just because an egg comes from a specific Pokémon does not guarantee the same species will hatch from it." He trailed off, his hand moving across the chart before coming to a stop near the middle.

"And the result of that test was—" He cut himself off, tapping the page twice instead.

"Well. See for yourself." Cynthia let her eyes fall to his hand, and then felt her eyes widen as she suddenly understood why the doctor had been so confused. Ghost-type: 55. 055 Most Pokémon that had been discovered were dual-types, with one type almost always slightly dominant. In tests like this, that typically translated to something close to a sixty–forty split, save for a few rare cases where one type overwhelmingly overshadowed the other. Normal-type: 36.

645 There could be variation in the ratios, of course, but only in the amount of type energy. There was never any variation in the amount of types. Dark-type: 8. 3 % For a second she just stared blankly at the chart, trying to understand what was happening. What the actual fu— Her brain caught up. Oh. She turned to Myst and saw the same realization hit him at the exact same moment. Across the desk, the doctor let out a slow sigh.

"I ran the test four times, on separate machines," he said.

"They all came back with the same result." He leaned back slightly, watching them.

"So now do you understand? Unless there is an alternative explanation, what you have here might be the first recorded triple-type Pokémon." His gaze flicked to the egg.

"I was not taking my time just to frustrate you. I was trying to determine if there was any medical explanation for this. Because if there isn't, then you are sitting on something whose value is quite literally immeasurable." He paused, his tone sharpening.

"I assumed you would not know anything about that. Because if you did, then my only conclusion is that the Pokémon the egg came from was itself triple-typed…" His eyes narrowed slightly.

"…and I would very much like to know how you really acquired that egg." Myst slowly moved his eyes away from hers, turning to the doctor.

"You could have saved us thirty minutes if you just asked." He said flatly. The doctor paused.

"What do you mean?"

"The egg, why it has three types. I am almost a hundred percent sure I know why, and it's not because it's the first of its kind super rare triple type." The doctor just stared.

"Then why?"

"The egg is in the process of changing its type. Originally, it was Dark-type—but because of a certain event, it's shifting into Ghost and Normal." The doctor's response was immediate.

"Impossible. I do not know where you got that information, but Pokémon do not change type like that." Myst shot him a look that said a million words. The doctor, quite literally, rolled his eyes.

"Do not play games with me. Evolutions are different," he said, irritation creeping into his tone.

"I meant that Pokémon inside eggs do not simply change their typing. Pokémon might be fantastical creatures, but there is also biology at play. They are beings of flesh and blood too." Myst sent him another look.

"Right. Because Magnemite is—" Myst stopped himself, then let out a slow breath.

"You know what? I'm not going to argue." He ran a hand through his hair before continuing, more measured.

"Let me try to explain it like this. Have you ever heard of regional forms? How some Pokémon can have different typings depending on where they come from?" The doctor, who looked ready to explode, stared daggers at him—then forced himself to take a slow breath.

"I have," he said stiffly. Myst nodded.

"The Pokémon we got the egg from—we said it was Dark-type, right? Well, it also has a regional form. A Ghost–Normal one. You're saying Pokémon don't change type inside their eggs. And maybe you're right. Maybe most don't. But Ghost-types have always been somewhat special, right? I'm not going to go into exactly what happened to the egg—it doesn't really matter. But even before we came in with it I kind of thought it might come out being a Ghost-Normal type. This just confirmed it for me."

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. For a long moment the doctor didn't say anything.

"…And you are certain of this?" Myst nodded.

"Yeah." The doctor tapped his fingers against the desk for a few moments, his gaze shifting between the chart, the egg, and Myst.

"…Have you ever considered being part of a study? Or perhaps leaving the egg here, so that—" Myst cut him off.

"Is everything else with the egg fine aside from the typing?" The doctor pursed his lips, then tried again.

"Well, yes. Aside from the typing anomaly, everything appears to be in order. But—" Myst stood. He picked up the egg, took Cynthia's hand, and without another word, walked out of the office. Cynthia, who had somehow managed to keep her mouth shut—even when she'd been seconds away from vaulting over the desk—felt a vicious flicker of satisfaction as the doctor's expression crumbled. … Cynthia grinned as Myst finished explaining.

"And you should've seen his face—like someone had just stepped on his foot," she added, briefly mimicking the doctor's expression. Across the table, Flint burst into laughter, loud enough that a few nearby trainers glanced over. Neither she nor Myst had managed to meet them before now. Volkner and Flint had likely been staying at a different Pokémon Center and using another training ground. But after leaving the egg clinic, they had headed to the closest training grounds—and ended up stumbling right into them.

It was almost ironic. Yesterday, while waddling around the city, they'd halfheartedly searched the training grounds only to give up. But now, after they'd stopped looking entirely, they'd run into them by chance.

"Damn. He really thought he had something, didn't he?" Flint said, shaking his head in amusement.

"Not that I blame him. A Pokémon with three types? That kind of discovery would launch you straight into stardom." Cynthia pushed the thought aside, refocusing on the conversation.

"It would have," she agreed with a small nod.

"I think that's half the reason he kept ignoring us—he was too busy getting lost in his own head. Though, then again, if not for that, he might've tried to take the egg outright, so I guess it could've been worse." Volkner, seated beside Flint, paused at her words—his reaction noticeable enough that everyone glanced his way. He raised a hand, waving them off.

"Sorry, it's nothing. I was just thinking about the way you're describing him." Myst tilted his head.

"Like a douche?" Volkner licked his lips.

"No… or, well, yes. But that's not what I mean. I'm just… confused about how dismissive he supposedly was." Flint shot him a sideways look.

"Why? He was an asshole, some people are like that." Volkner opened his mouth, then hesitated, like he thought better of it.

"C'mon man, you can't say A and not say B." Flint half whined. Volkner sighed, but still gave in.

"…Honestly, it's just that I kind of figured you wouldn't have to deal with that sort of thing," he said, glancing toward Cynthia.

"You're a clan heiress, right? Couldn't you make things pretty difficult for him if you wanted to?" Cynthia blinked.

"Make things difficult for him? Why would I do that?" Volkner waved his hands.

"Don't get me wrong, I know you're not like that. But people are usually more careful around clans, right? Not bowing and scraping or anything, but still. That doctor sounded outright rude. Maybe you wouldn't care, but I have met some clan kids who definitely would." That's just a stereotype. The words rose to the tip of Cynthia's tongue, ready to be followed by an explanation of everything people misunderstood about what being part of a clan actually meant.

Because the truth was, most clans didn't have nearly as much influence as people thought. The days when they acted as real political powers, barring a few exceptions, were largely over. What advantages clan trainers had now came mostly from the depth of knowledge their clans preserved about Pokémon and training. Part of her even wanted to explain that, yes, the Shirona clan might be the oldest in Sinnoh, but that didn't mean it held much sway beyond Celestic.

That most of the influence tied to her name came from her grandmother, not the clan itself. She stopped herself. Because, honestly, he wasn't entirely wrong. Not just about there being clan kids like that, she'd met a few just like that, but about the broader point, too. After Myst had trouble getting citizenship, hadn't a single call to her grandmother resolved it? Her name—hadn't she already seen how people's attitudes shifted when they heard it? It opened doors that should have stayed closed.

Made people listen when they otherwise wouldn't. If she hadn't been Shirona, would the ranger yesterday have cared whether the information about the Meadow Plate came from her or Myst? Part of her knew her clan likely had little to do with it, that most of that influence came directly from her grandmother. But somehow, that didn't feel like the whole truth. Being from a clan meant something. It gave her the leeway to know things she shouldn't, to be heard when others wouldn't.

Maybe it even gave her grandmother influence, extra pull she wouldn't have had otherwise. The clans of Sinnoh might never have been weaker, many having lost the Gyms and authority they once held. But to most people, they were still clans. In her grandmother's generation, even some of the lesser ones could have made life very difficult over that kind of disrespect. Go back a few hundred years, and the Shirona clan would have ruled a stretch of land from Celestic to Michina.

Back then, mouthing off to a clan heiress could have been a matter of life and death. Of course, maybe the doctor was just the type not to care. His social instincts certainly didn't seem to be beyond third grade level. But, at the same time, there was also the fact that— Cynthia slowly opened her mouth.

"He probably didn't know. I never introduced myself, and I don't usually go around name dropping my clan even if somebody is being rude." For a moment, no one said anything. But Cynthia didn't need Navi's telepathy to see the thoughts racing through Volkner and Flint's heads. She narrowed her eyes.

"And, again, I'm not going to do anything about it." Volkner and Flint both nodded a little too quickly, echoing their agreement. A flicker of annoyance rose in her chest. She opened her mouth to call them out on their obviously fake compliance—but before she could, Myst bumped her lightly with his shoulder.

"What?" she asked, turning toward him. Myst let his face go completely expressionless. He paused, just long enough to make sure he had her full attention, before letting out a loud snort.

"You dare ask what before this young master? You have eyes, yet you cannot see Mount Coronet? And how dare you lay your eyes upon this visage—without bowing? You are courting death." Cynthia stared at him. Myst held it together for about five seconds before a grin broke across his face.

"What? Not everyone can be a clan heir," he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"I just wanted to see how it felt. And you know what? It actually feels pretty good." He shifted a little closer, looking down at her with exaggerated drama.

"Hell, maybe I should try to get into one. Got any ideas?" A beat passed. Cynthia forced her expression neutral, let out a quiet sigh, pushed his face away, and said a single word.

"Idiot." She ignored the way some part of her heart had done a somersault at his words. Myst's grin just widened, but instead of pushing further he just turned back to Volkner and Flint, both of them staring blankly at him. Myst paused.

"What, that was funny." Flint looked at him, at Cynthia, then nodded slowly.

"Uh-hu." Myst just shrugged.

"Well, not everyone can appreciate my brilliance, I guess." He paused, then shook his head, "Whatever, back on topic. The whole affair was kind of a wash. Honestly, I'm just glad it's over. Sitting there waiting like that was kind of torture. Forget everything else that happened—just that part alone was killing me." He glanced to the side, where his three Pokémon sat across the table.

"I mean, I can't exactly call myself the trainer of a Pokémon that hasn't even hatched yet. But still, the way he kept shutting everything down, it really felt like something was seriously wrong." He trailed off as his eyes landed on Swadloon. Her face was buried halfway into her plate as she devoured her food, showing absolutely no restraint—like it was her last meal. Or at least, until she noticed him looking. She froze.

Then, as if she'd been composed the entire time, she slowly lifted her face from the plate, sat up straight, and delicately picked up a single piece of food. She ate it with exaggerated care. It might've looked graceful, if not for the fact that half her face was still covered in food. She gave him a small, dignified nod. Myst grinned at the sight before looking away.

"But yeah, I wouldn't say the egg's part of my team yet or anything. But I'd be lying if I said it doesn't feel like it's, like, halfway there." He leaned back slightly.

"Either way—zero out of ten experience. Do not recommend." Volkner slowly shook his head.

"At least things ended well." He paused for a moment, then shifted the conversation.

"Actually, I've been wondering, when did you schedule your Gym battle? Flint and I got lucky and made it to the Gym pretty quickly compared to the others who came in with the Rangers, but you guys stayed behind to pick up Swadloon, right?" Cynthia forced herself to look away from Swadloon—and from melting into a puddle—and refocused on Volkner.

"When we…" She trailed off as her brain caught up with her mouth, her expression falling without meaning to. Volkner pursed his lips.

"That bad, huh?" Cynthia sighed.

"Not that bad. We're both scheduled for Tuesday next week. It's not optimal, but it could be worse… probably." Flint let out a low whistle.

"Damn, that sucks. Not only can I not see it, with me and Volkner leaving for Snowpoint the day after our matches, but considering how strong you both are, the third Gym would be a cakewalk. You wouldn't even need to prepare that much." Cynthia shared a glance with Myst. Flint paused, then raised an eyebrow.

"Wait… are you guys actually worried? Why the hell? You two are going to crush that Gym at your current strength. Hell, if you planned it right, you could probably sweep. The only reason me and Volkner aren't doing that is because I want Magby to get some experience—and he's doing the same with Elekid."

"It's not that we're worried about challenging a third-badge Gym," Myst replied slowly.

"It's just… I don't think either of us is actually planning to fight it at that level. I guess we never really mentioned it, but when we take on Gyms, we usually ask the Gym Leader to face us with Pokémon from a higher badge tier." Flint furrowed his brows.

"Wait, seriously? But… why? Isn't that literally just making it harder for yourselves?" Myst opened his mouth to answer, but before he could Volkner cut him off.

"And how is that even allowed? Isn't there rules against that? I thought the whole reason for people sweeping the first two Gyms come from people not being allowed to do something like that?"

"First off, Gym challenges are supposed to be challenging, right?" Myst said.

"And as for how that's allowed…" He dramatically rotated his head towards Cynthia, prompting her to explain. And she would—when she just figured out how.

"…Well, technically, there aren't any actual rules against it." She began slowly, before pausing, trying to gather her thoughts. Volkner spoke up before she could, his brows knit together.

"Wait—you're saying it never became an actual rule?" Cynthia stopped her thinking to shake her head.

"No. A lot of people think it did, but the only recent changes to Gym battle rules were the policy adjustments for the first two Gyms. It was in the media as a potential change, but it never went through."

"Wait, so you're saying the only reason they deny those challenges is because they don't want another incident? That's it?" Volkner asked.

"Yeah?" she replied.

"That's…" Volkner trailed off. Cynthia lifted an eyebrow.

"Is it that weird that they didn't want to just flat out ban it? After all, if they did, they would ban not just people like me or Myst, but also trainers who come from other regions having completed the circuit." Volkner seemed to snap back at her words, his expression tightening.

"That's obviously different. Trainers from other regions can usually prove they're at that level—through badges or something equivalent. That's the whole point. Gyms aren't supposed to be places to show off. They're meant to certify competency. To prove that you are ready to handle situations at a certain level and qualify you for jobs like being a bodyguard or ranger." He turned to Myst.

"Challenges? Yeah—but for people who actually are around that badge level. Jumping levels just leads to—" He cut himself off mid sentence. Myst lifted an eyebrow.

"Leads to what?" Volkner lowered his gaze slightly.

"It leads to another Sunnyshore incident." He said it like the name alone should have been enough. It obviously wasn't. Myst just stared at him blankly for a second before turning to her. Cynthia opened her mouth to explain.

"A few years ago, someone tried to jump two levels during a Gym challenge—went from a second-badge match straight to a fourth. People said he was trying to impress a girl… or a sponsor. Not sure which." Across the table, Volkner clenched one fist slowly. Cynthia didn't notice. She shook her head.

"Though the why doesn't really matter. The problem was that he used a newly caught Pokémon to try and soften up the Gym Leader's ace—and instead of just fainting, it was injured badly enough that it died later." Myst eyes widened slightly.

"…What?" Cynthia pursed her lips in response, before she continued.

"It turned into a huge incident. The entire region was in an uproar. Pokémon dying on a journey… it's tragic, but it happens. But in a Gym? That's different. To say people were pissed is an understatement. In the end, the Gym Leader got sacked and replaced. The trainer? Completely banned from the circuit."

"That's…" Myst hesitated. For a couple of seconds he ruminated on it, like he wasn't quite sure what to say. When he didn't speak up, Cynthia just continued, glancing back at Volkner.

"But the solution isn't just banning the practice entirely. I agree that the gym challenge is in some way meant to be a certification, but its also meant to be a teaching opportunity right. I mean, that was the whole point of them changing the rules around the first two badges after all." Myst nodded his head slowly beside her.

"Yeah, that's kind of what I was thinking too. And don't get me wrong—something like the Sunnyshore incident is a tragedy—but wasn't it, in the end, the trainer's fault? Even if I had six badges, I could still throw out a newly caught Pokémon and end up in the same situation. I get why the Gym Leader got punished, but at the same time… how would they even know? It's not like you can judge how strong a Pokémon is at a glance."

"You can't," Volkner shot back, "but that's not what we're talking about. A trainer with six badges and one with only one, the gap between them is so massive it's not even comparable. If something like that happened at that level, it wouldn't end with a ban. It would be prison." He took a breath, like to calm himself down before he continued.

"So you might be right that a Gym Leader can't know how strong a Pokémon is. But they can know how many badges a challenger has. And he knew that guy only had one. At that level? Ninety-nine percent of trainers are still shouting every command. So the issue isn't that the one-badge trainer 'asked for it.' The issue is that it's entirely up to the Gym Leader whether to allow it. There is no testing or requirements. You can ask on the spot, and all it takes is a yes." His voice rose, just slightly.

"That guy was an idiot, sure—but what does that make the Gym Leader? So again—how is that still the rule? It should've been changed. The risk of something going wrong is just too high. Whether it's the Gym Leader or the challenger—it doesn't matter. There's no real reason for it to exist. Never mind that leaving who is allowed to actually jump levels up to the Gym Leader's discretion just makes it more likely for something like…"

He stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening slightly, like a piece had just fallen into place. Slowly, his gaze shifted away from Myst and settled on Cynthia.

"…favoritism to occur." A dull silence settled over the table. Cynthia blinked slowly. Wait, had he just— He looked away, a beat too slow. Her eyes narrowed, and instantly she felt some heat enter her voice.

"Excuse me—are you trying to say something?" Volkner stilled at her voice, but before she could ask anything more he snapped back towards her. His eyes sharpening, he opened his mouth— Flint jabbing an elbow hard enough into his side that Volkner jolted.

"But, obviously, we don't mean you guys are doing anything wrong." he said, stressing obviously enough that Volkner visibly paused.

"All he means is that he disagrees with it even being an option." A beat passed. Flint glanced at him.

"Right?" Volkner stared across the table, before looking away.

"Yeah…" He exhaled slowly, before glancing back at her.

"Didn't mean to imply anything." Cynthia stared at him. Normally, she might have argued. Talked about how the circuit was already too adjusted for the lowest common denominator—how having the option to push harder only made things more interesting. That the problem in the circuit was the lack of a challenge more than anything else.

"…It's fine," she said instead. An awkward silence settled over the table, lingering until Volkner muttered a quick goodbye and stood, leaving without another word. Flint sighed.

"It's a sensitive subject," he offered, before pushing himself up and heading after him. Cynthia watched them go until they disappeared.

"…Do you think he has a point?" she asked, low enough that it almost became a whisper instead. Myst leaned back slightly, letting out a quiet sigh.

"Do you think I know?" Cynthia lowered her gaze.

"Obviously not." He made a sound of mock outrage, but she barely registered it. After all, the problem was, she wasn't sure either. How annoying.