The following is the Prologue to my new project, entitled "The Smallest Step." It is expected to span nearly twenty chapters based on the Heart Gold/Soul Silver Pokemon games. As the author, I own none of the characters, pokemon, places, or events depicted through the story. Feedback and comments are always appreciated, please do not hesitate to let me know what you think. I hope you enjoy, however.


There comes a time in every child's life when he wakes up and realizes he's going to make it someday. He's going to pour his heart and soul into something so crazy and stupid that every other hope and every other dream becomes meaningless. He's vowed to do what he set out to do, and there will be no stopping him once he steps out the door. He's going to become nothing short of the best.

For most children, this is the day they set out on their Pokemon journey. These wide-eyed travelers from across the regions, setting out with nothing but the clothes they were wearing, a bag, and a pokemon to protect them.

These first days of the journey seemed so long ago now. Had it been two or three years since leaving New Bark Town? Had it been summer or fall that fateful day? How many opponents had come and gone, and how many friends had done the same?

Could one trainer possibly remember all of the faces he had seen along his way? All of the trainers and gym leaders he defeated to get to the very patch of earth he stood upon now? It seemed almost amusing to think of the legacy he had left behind him, and here he was wearing the same red running sneakers his mother had given him the first day of his journey. By now they were caked with dirt and grime, turned a faded pink from use. They had carried him from New Bark Town to the patch of dirt he now stood upon. And yet he hesitated.

Had the Champion halted here as well, staring up at the great mass that was Mount Silver? The mountain pierced the clouds, extending far into the heavens. It was the great division between the regions: Johto to the east, Kanto the west. A natural barrier formed of solid, jagged rocks too steep to climb, with pouring waterfalls over their rough precipices. From the ground, the warmth of the summer made foliage spring from cracks in the earth, coating the rocks in emerald. At the peak, this summer's warmth gave way to frigid cold and biting hail, where no living thing dares to reside.

Except one.

Standing before the jagged gash in the mountainside that lead into Mount Silver, the trainer still stood hesitant. He looked towards the path ahead and then glanced back. He could try and convince himself otherwise, but he knew there was only forward from here. There was no path left in Kanto or Johto that he had not traversed before. He knew the last road only would lead into the inky blackness of Mount Silver. His final trial of his Pokemon career waited within that mountain.

And yet he couldn't bring himself to move.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder. The warmth of another's touch shocked the boy out of his thoughts, turning his head to acknowledge the presence. The heavy cream-colored hand belonged to the boy's Typhlosion. The pokemon could only do so much to reassure him, yet remained standing at its master's side ever diligently. It was just as it had done as a Cyndaquil on the day they set out from home. Now their eyes met as equals, not as master and servant. Even the Pokemon knew the reason for his master's hesitation, as he shared the same stirring feelings as the boy. Theirs was a bond deeper than any human connection could fathom.

Silently, the two faced the peak once more. The dusty shoes remained where they had stopped for only a moment longer, and slowly the boy took a step forward. The sound of earth untouched in years crunched under his feet. It was the only noise through the hollowed path. A second step forward, and the Typhlosion followed. There was no need for an order or a command.

The saying the trainer's mother had graced him with as he turned away from home those many moons ago was simple. It was a common phrase, yet the words echoed through his memory as clear as the sun above.

The longest journey begins with the smallest step.

And that journey would end with one as well.