The Ghost Specialist

Sam let the stack of books thump onto a library table as he collapsed into a free chair. Quilava hopped up next to him and sent him a look—that was a lot of books. She was silently asking if he was sure he wanted to go through all of that.

“It’s fine, Quilava,” Sam said, shifting in his seat to sit up. “You push yourself to get stronger in battles, and I push myself to support you as your trainer. If I didn’t do at least half of this, how could I call myself your friend?”

She huffed and let her head fall onto the table. With how many books were there, they would probably be here for several hours.

But Sam just chuckled and leaned over to scratch behind her ear. He took out his journal and set it up to take notes.

“It’ll be worth it. I like reading, anyway,” Sam said. “Besides, we just went through a lot of training on that mountain, and Redi’s out of town so we can’t meet up with her yet. The least I can do is figure out a way for you to evolve.”

Each and every one of these books claimed to talk about ghosts—real ghosts. They claimed to detail matters like wild spirits, long-passed Pokémon, and even historical yokai, but there was also a decent chance that most of these were just fiction.

Thankfully, Sam had learned enough from the books borrowed from Morty to let him tell fact from fiction. It’d take time, but it was time he was willing to spend.

As it stood, the next Blackthorn Trial was set to begin in less than a week, and both Sam and Redi would compete. Sam wouldn’t be seeking any rewards, and he was only technically allowed to participate since he hadn’t reached the final, fifth stage, himself. Redi, however, needed to prove herself to bring Dragonair onto her team, and Sam planned to support her every step of the way.

Before then, he had his own goals. Right now, the Trial didn’t matter. The next Gym battle didn’t matter. Heck, this year’s Silver Conference didn’t matter. The only thing he currently cared about was Quilava’s impending evolution.

One by one, Sam skimmed through the books. Some were quickly set aside when he recognized they were just fictional guidebooks. Others contained tall tales and folklore, some of which likely possessed kernels of truth, but Sam wanted books that contained more obvious explicit facts.

That wish unfortunately limited him to a small handful containing dry recountings of history.

But they’ll do.

His sole purpose here was to find evidence of real ghosts. Anything and everything that might provide a clue to a spirit’s location so that Quilava could help it enter its final rest and evolve. If they wanted her to evolve into a Hisuian Typhlosion, Sam wouldn’t be able to step in and help her with the process. However, as her trainer, what he could do was find her the location of a real ghost in the first place.

So did what he did best; he read. He parsed through what he could, wincing in apology when a stern-faced librarian walked by, glaring at him for his noisy mumbling. Quilava rolled around in her seat, bored, but Sam continued to check through book after book after book after book.

“You haven’t been showing any signs of evolution, but I don’t think we should risk putting it off,” he whispered to her after deciding yet another book didn’t have what they needed. “I don’t want to be surprised by anything, so I think we might want to request an Everstone from the Pokémon Center. But that means you’d need to wear your scarf 24-7. You wouldn’t be allowed to hold that and your Charcoal at the same time, too.”

Quilava breathed out, frustrated, but she still reluctantly agreed. While she liked wearing her scarf—it looked good on her—the problem was that wearing it too often messed with her fur and sometimes got in the way of the fire that came off her head.

“Sorry,” Sam said. “But you are at the point where Starter Pokémon reach their final stage. Past it, really. But it's kind of funny, too. Most people would say our team is basically in its final stage right now. Haunter’s evolution is nearly impossible to trigger without trade—his species and other trade-evolution species aren’t uncommon in the Conference. For Misdreavus, Dusk Stones aren’t common in Johto, so her evolved form almost never shows up. And Primeape?”

Sam held back a laugh, and Quilava snorted in amusement.

“Oh, yeah, he’s definitely in his final stage,” Sam said, sarcastic.

Truthfully, the only thing separating their progress from other teams’ progress was that most trainers tended to have a fifth Pokémon by now. Instead, Quilava’s evolution was likely going to be the next big change to the team.

Sam went back to reading, making sure to consider the veracity of the text while writing down any locations that felt significant. There was a heavy focus on historical buildings—Sprout Tower, the Burned Tower, and a few places around Ecruteak, but Sam wasn’t sure if any of those “obvious” places would still have wild ghosts.

He managed to get through about half the stack of books he’d pulled out, studying them until a buzz came from the floor.

The PokéGear in his backpack rang.

“Shoot.” He fumbled around to dig through his backpack. The same librarian from before turned the corner to glare at him, tapping a ruler against her palm in threat.

“...Hello?”

Sam’s voice came out as a hiss. He cupped his mouth to try to muffle the noise as he whispered into the phone.

“Sam?” a voice said through the device. “This is Morty. I got your message on the forums. Is everything alright? What do you need help with?”

Morty’s voice had a breathiness to it, as if he had run to make this call as soon as he noticed Sam’s message. To that, Sam grimaced. The Gym Leader had probably been too busy with his job to check the Ghost Type forums, and seeing an hours-old direct message that only said, “I need help. Call me,” probably didn’t help to stop any worries.

And after everything with Petrel...

“Sorry,” Sam said, cringing. “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to ask a question that I wasn’t allowed to put into text.”

A pause.

Morty breathed out in relief on the other side of the call, and Sam briefly pulled the phone away from his ear. He tried to mouth an apology and tell the watching librarian there was a Gym Leader on the other side. Thankfully, all she did was narrow her eyes before walking away, but that constant threat still lurked nearby.

“I hope everything’s fine with you, too,” Sam continued, hurrying to close the book in front of him as he pulled his journal forward.

“Yes, everything’s fine with me,” Morty said, chuckling after a bit. “I’m finally back from Violet. If anyone tells you that a Gym Leader’s primary job is to take on challengers, they’re lying. The real answer is paperwork. ...So, so much paperwork.”

Morty finished that statement with a long sigh, sounding as if he was in the process of physically deflating. Sam had to wonder if this call was more than just a check in. A phone call with a trainer asking for help could serve as the perfect excuse to take a break from all of the work he needed to do.

“So, what do you need? Tips on a Ghost Type? Some help figuring out a move? Something else?”

Morty sounded a lot more cheerful than before.

“Information,” Sam answered immediately. “I’m doing something important, and I need to know where we can find real ghosts. Ones we can take care of. We’re already approved for work like this and helped one out in the past, so... Please. We can handle it, and we really need this. It’s extremely important.”

Silence.

For almost a full minute.

Sam could hear the sound of Morty’s breath, so he knew the Gym Leader hadn’t stepped away, but the fact Morty hadn’t immediately continued the conversation was a bit worrying.

“Sam,” Morty said carefully when he finally spoke up again. “I’m sorry, but unless someone reaches out to you with a job, I can’t provide you with specific locations. I know you’re eager to be more familiar with the Ghost Type, but real ghosts are dangerous. The Pokémon League has its restrictions for a reason—”

“I’m using my favor,” Sam interrupted.

Once more, the call fell into silence.

Honestly, Sam still wasn’t sure if his request for a favor had been approved or not. For helping out against Petrel, Redi had already received the Teleport TM and tutoring she’d asked for, but Sam was still yet to receive anything in return. Back then, he had asked for a favor to put off the decision, but now felt as good a time as any to use it.

Sure, a favor could mean anything, but this was the request that carried the most meaning for Sam. If he could bypass the League’s restrictions, he wouldn’t need to waste time on research. He could immediately head out and bring Quilava to the ghost she needed.

But Morty didn’t answer. For the second time in this conversation, the Gym Leader fell into deep thought. He was still clearly on the line, but he wasn’t speaking up.

Sam glanced over to his friend in the meantime. Quilava sat in her seat, resting her head on the table, but her ears were pointed up in rapt attention.

He scratched her head.

“Where are you right now?” Morty suddenly asked.

“Blackthorn Public Library?” Sam offered. “Why?”

No words—only a noise.

A single click came from the phone.

The droning tone that came from the other side told Sam that the line was now dead.

“Is he... really avoiding us like that?” Sam grumbled out loud—unfortunately, too loud.

Something sharp stung the back of his neck.

Wincing, he proceeded to gather up the books he’d been reading through and returned them to their proper positions in the shelves. All the while, that librarian from before silently watched him put them back.

Sam hadn’t been kicked out—just scolded—but he’d done enough research for today. He made sure to note which books had been useful and which ones had been nonsense, and his journal was now filled with notes. The titles of the books he had yet to get to were written down so he could get back to them later.

He wasn’t done here. He still had plenty of avenues of approach.

Once he was outside, Sam stretched, feeling the late afternoon sun hit his face.

“If Morty doesn’t want to help us, then maybe we can ask the Pokémon Center,” Sam said to Quilava. “That, or we put in a job, maybe? Have others collect information on ghosts? Can we even do that? Should we do that?”

He glanced down to check Quilava’s thoughts, but she didn’t respond. She was too busy staring at the man standing at the base of the library’s staircase, looking up at them with a smile and a wave.

“Yo!” Morty said, greeting them in person. “Sorry for taking so long—had to arrange a Teleport. Anyway, come with me! You want a real ghost, right? Well, let’s walk and talk. We need to have an important conversation.”

Sam didn’t have to run, but he had to keep a quick pace to stay at Morty’s side as the man traveled down a Blackthorn street. The Gym Leader wasn’t running, but he had long, determined strides. Thankfully, after traveling for so long, Sam found it much easier to keep up compared to the time he followed Morty in Ecruteak.

“To be upfront about this visit—pretend it's not happening. I still plan to have a conversation with you about the Ghost Type once you return to Ecruteak, but we need to talk about your favor.”

Morty rolled his jaw around, trying to find the right words. Sam made sure to stay exactly at the Gym Leader’s side.

He cleared his throat when Morty became too lost in thought to continue his statement.

“So, about that favor...” Sam started, a little nervous. “I didn’t mean for it to be a big deal, but when I first asked for it, Nurse Joy seemed really hesitant to accept. I just wanted to put off deciding on a payment until later. What’s so important that you came here yourself?”

Morty rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly.

“Think about it like this: while the Indigo League manages both Johto and Kanto, the Pokémon League helps to manage dozens of regions across the globe. If you have an unspecified favor with that organization...”

Morty let his words trail off, and Sam felt the blood drain from his face.

“I’ll just say that it really helps you went to me to cash that favor in,” Morty continued. “Nurse Joy and I had to argue to get your payment approved, and it also helped that Lance was desperate to capture Petrel. Since that Team Rocket lieutenant was actually captured—and is still in prison, mind you—the request was approved. You also aren’t someone who’d abuse a privilege like this, so the League wasn’t too motivated to try to deny us.”

Sam just nodded quietly. Something in his stomach churned.

I just wanted to give myself time to think. I know it might have been a blank check, but I didn't mean one this big!

Yet, even knowing how valuable this single favor was, Sam still stood by his decision to use it here. His number one priority was to help Quilava evolve, and now that they knew the method, it made sense to do everything to ensure the right evolution.

Morty turned a corner, and Sam easily kept up. The only Pokémon out with him right now were in his shadow; Quilava had been returned to let him move quickly.

“Before I start explaining anything, do you mind if I ask why you want this information so badly you’re willing to use your favor on it?” Morty said.

Sam stared straight ahead. He chewed on the inside of his check.

“It’s for an evolution,” he admitted, trying to keep the truth vague.

Unfortunately, Morty suddenly came to a halt, and Sam had to fight to not accidentally run into the man.

“An evolution,” Morty repeated. He tasted the word. “Ah. I see. For Quilava, then?”

“W-what?”

Morty waved Sam off.

“It's fine. Really,” Morty said. “I’m not going to steal the idea or try to get a Hisuian Typhlosion—I know trainers can be secretive about things like that. Just know you were a bit suspicious when you first visited Ecruteak, and I might have looked a few things up afterward...”

He laughed.

“Well, think about it like this,” Morty continued. “Haunter evolves through trade or other means, and evolving Misdreavus into a Mismagius only requires a Dusk Stone. Primeape can’t evolve. So trying to obtain one of those old Ghost Type Typhlosions is the only answer that makes sense.”

Sam gulped. With how excited Morty reacted to Hex, Sam hadn't wanted to reveal any further knowledge on the Ghost Type to another specialist. After all, this advantage was supposed to be his.

But it helped that Morty seemed genuine in his non-interest. Sam’s desire to evolve Quilava into the first Hisuian Typhlosion of the modern era would go unchallenged.

“...Yeah,” Sam said, sighing tiredly. “We’re trying to evolve Quilava into a Hisuian Typhlosion. And we think handling a real ghost will be key.”

Morty raised an eyebrow but said nothing else, turning around to resume traveling with the same long strides as before. Sam hurried to catch up before falling into pace, and they moved further down the street.

Neither of them had anything else that needed to be said right away.

A full minute passed before either of them spoke again.

“If it helps, her evolution isn’t super obvious. I was only able to guess since I know you and was able to look through a few of the Gym’s old books. Primeape is honestly a great addition to your team to help hide your goal—you claim to be a Ghost Type specialist, but half your team aren’t Ghost Types. Perfect, right?”

“Haha. Yeah,” Sam breathed. “Definitely. Right.”

He looked down to count the stones that passed beneath his feet. Morty thankfully stared straight ahead.

“But Quilava’s evolution is still going to be difficult,” Morty said. “People have tried, and none of them have been successful. Better trainers than me have attempted to recreate lost evolutions in the past.”

Sam clenched his fists. He brought his head up to meet Morty in the eye.

“But we will,” he declared.

Morty nodded.

“Yeah. You probably will.”

Sam barely managed to catch himself after that nonchalant response. Morty didn’t even notice, and he didn’t even blink as Sam stared in disbelief.

“But back to the actual reason I’m here—you want to know where to find real ghosts, right?”

“Right,” Sam answered.

A hum. Morty tilted his head to the side and somewhat slowed. It took him a few seconds to speak up again.

“It’s kind of a complicated topic. Forgive me if it takes a bit. There are a lot of different perspectives when it comes to handling ghosts,” Morty said. “Generally speaking, they’re only dealt with once they become a problem. Jobs are given out as somewhat mandatory requests rather than anything trainers can optionally come up and choose to take.

“The League’s leadership decides how to tackle most ghosts,” he continued. “For Johto, those decisions are passed to me, and I personally believe it’s best to take on a more passive role. Real ghosts are natural phenomena. I don’t think people should hunt them down, only step in when they become truly dangerous. My approach works well, but I do have to admit that ghosts in Johto tend to be more peaceful than anywhere else.

“In Kanto, Agatha takes on that role, and she’s much more proactive than me. Like all Ghost Type trainers, I can admit she handles her role with the respect and competence it deserves, but she also has a certain level of... fervor. When taking on ghosts, I mean.”

Morty awkwardly laughed. They continued down the road.

“In Hoenn, Phoebe has a similar perspective to Agatha, but she’s more eccentric about it. She goes out of her way to help ghosts rather than remove them as threats, like Agatha. Those two aren’t really on speaking terms. You’d be surprised how often they fall into arguments during the rare conversation between them.”

Sam wished he had his notebook out, but they were moving too quickly for him to reach into his pack. The information Morty was sharing wasn’t anything he could find on his own. While the lecture had been person-specific so far, it felt as though, at any moment, the Gym Leader would drop some insane revelation about the world. Sam wanted to be able to remember Morty’s exact words when needed.

Guess I’m still haunted by what he dropped on me in Ecruteak.

Sam let out a snort.

Ha ha. ‘Haunted.’

He glanced up at Morty, who seemed to have paused with a purposeful break. Sam had the chance to ask any questions if needed.

“Is there anyone else who takes on a more passive stance like yours?” Sam asked.

Morty wobbled his head as he considered the question.

“I suppose Sinnoh’s Fantina can fall into that category. As a Ghost Type specialist, she also helps with ghosts, but it’s Bertha of Sinnoh’s Elite Four who makes the decision on real ghosts. Fantina’s far more focused on her Gym, her Pokémon, and Contests—though not necessarily in that order,” Morty said.

“But, I’ll quickly add that there’s nothing wrong with caring more about Pokémon than dealing with ghosts,” Morty continued. “Ghost Type trainers are still Pokémon trainers, and there are already plenty of people out there dedicated to making sure lost spirits can be put to rest. Fantina can do what she wants, I only told you about ghosts in the first place as a warning. You don’t have to go out of your way to try to help. Ghosts attract ghosts, and I just wanted to make sure you were prepared, you know?”

“I know,” Sam said. “But we need this information.”

“But you need this information,” Morty solemnly repeated.

“But I’m also thankful that you’re helping us,” Sam said. “This is a lot more useful than anything I got from the Blackthorn Clan.”

He couldn’t stop the successive scowl.

The moment Sam finished his thought, Morty came to a sudden stop once more, and Sam scrambled to stop his pace and come to a rest at Morty’s side.

“Wait, the Blackthorn Clan?” Morty blinked at Sam’s expression. “I know that they can be difficult at times, but what happened with the Blackthorn Clan?”

“What didn’t happen with the Blackthorn Clan?”

Sam paused and frowned at his own words.

“Actually, not much happened with the Blackthorn Clan,” Sam admitted. “Redi and I took on their Dragon Type Trial, and she...”

He felt his hands clench.

“They stopped her from moving on just because she didn’t nod.”

Morty’s face was unreadable as he stared at Sam. His eyes flicked up and down, as if taking him in, but Sam didn’t care. He was allowed to be unhappy with someone else.

“...I’m not going to tell you that your feelings are wrong, but I will warn you of something else,” Morty said carefully. “Training Ghost Types requires a... certain way of thinking, and Ghost Type energy tends to have its own effects, too. Be careful that you don’t find yourself falling into the wrong patterns. Actually—”

He hummed.

“Think about it like this. How would you describe a Dragon Type trainer to me?”

“Arrogant. Imperious. Believes they’re better than everyone else,” Sam answered.

Morty nodded in agreement, much to Sam’s surprise.

“Can you think of any exceptions?”

“Clair’s alright, I guess,” Sam huffed.

“When it comes to training Dragon Types, those Pokémon respond best to a certain mindset.” Morty held up a finger, entering some sort of ‘lecture’ mode. “Acting ‘imperious’ around your Pokémon means they’re more likely to respect you, but acting like that often can mean you fall into habit and begin to act that way normally.

“However, Ghost Type energy is a bit more insidious than that. While Ghost Types don’t do it intentionally, it is common for trainers to become...”

Morty bit his lip. He looked to be struggling at finding the right words.

“Look, all I’m saying is that I’ve seen too many trainers fall into a mindset that aligns with the Ghost Type too well. If you find yourself becoming a bit too vindictive, it might be worth taking a step back. Look at things from another angle, yeah?”

Sam bit his tongue to not lash out—and recognizing that his immediate thought was to lash out haunted him. He knew he was mad about Blackthorn, and Will had given him a similar warning before, but Morty’s words had some truth to them.

Except they still kicked out Redi so easily! It didn’t feel like they gave their challengers any respect at all!

Yet, the Blackthorn Clan was essentially giving away free stuff to anyone who showed the slightest bit of competence. They were allowed to be a little nitpicky about gifting others their things.

“Anyway, we’re here. We don’t need to walk any further,” Morty said, looking up.

Sam followed the Gym Leader’s gaze to see a house in line with all the others at the side of the road. It was a normal one with a blocky shape, divided from the rest of the city with a small brick-and-iron fence that gave it a tiny, concrete yard walkway around its front.

It was unassuming.

Nothing special.

He would have never given it a second glance if not for Morty pointing it out.

“You said you wanted to call in your favor with the League, and there’s no need to doubt—I will give you everything you want,” Morty said. “But it’s going to take a bit of time to assemble all of that, so before I hand anything over, how about a short test? An impromptu Trial, in a way. A check-in for how far you’ve progressed.”

He chuckled.

“This is the closest, most haunted place we have recorded,” Morty said, staring at the seemingly normal house. “In Blackthorn, at least. For this, forget about trying to evolve Quilava. Use your entire team to help you. Your challenge is to handle the ghost inside.”

Sam stared at the abandoned building. Small details began to stick out.

Its inside was dark without any hints of light. The section just past its fence had patches of brown, decaying leaves. Spiderwebs had been woven under the edge of the roof, and the gate itself had a thick lock that had been rusted shut, having gone unused for years.

“I can’t have Quilava do this on her own?” Sam asked.

“It’d be too dangerous. You need practice, so you and your entire team are going to take this on,” Morty replied.

Sam stepped forward.

“...Anything else you can tell me? Anything about the house or ghosts in general?”

Morty hummed as he considered it.

“I suppose I could give you a hint, but it’d be a better test if I didn’t,” he said. “I will say that you don’t need to worry. This ghost hasn’t left its house, so it shouldn’t be too aggressive. Just keep in mind that when you're done, you’ll learn everything you want to know!”

Sam nodded, feeling his throat become a little dry as he moved to the front gate. In a way, Morty had told him the exact location of a ghost, but the Gym Leader was right.

They didn’t exactly have the experience needed for Quilava to handle this on her own.

With how rusted the lock was, it broke open with little effort. Morty sent him a thumbs up as Sam looked behind.

Swallowing his nerves, he proceeded to grab the gate’s metal bars to pull it open. He sent out his Pokémon as he stepped closer to its closed front door.