Before he was Kédo.
He wasn't, and then he was.
He remembered that he was little and his mother was big. She was heat and comfort and safety, and they lived together in a mountain range. There were volcanoes nearby, and he liked the smell of sulfur and burning and how the ground sometimes shook like mad when they exploded, spewing hot magma everywhere like it was all for him and he liked it.
Sometimes his mother takes him flying. He remembers the first time he felt the wind on his face and watched the world pass by below him. It was exhilarating, it was life-giving, and it was everything he ever wanted to do in his entire life. His mother promised him that if he ate and if he listened and worked hard, he could be big and fly all on his own. Then one day he was older and he was suddenly ready to leave his mother and the magma and the ground that shook like mad.
The man who sometimes visited them was big and pale and kind of hairy. He smelled like what he imagined flowers would smell like (what he soon learned what laundry smells like). His mother likes this man, and this man likes his mother. All of the mothers trust him. They want their children to leave and to learn to be adults and they know that he will help their children, just like he helped them.
They like the man so much that they want him to stay with them for a long time and he has to fight his way away from them, throwing his big head back and laughing which makes the man's chest rumble like mad, like the volcanoes did.
Is he Father? Is he Master?
He can't really understand the man's speech, but he understand intentions. He understands smiles and comfort and laughter. He understands a hand on his head and the rumble of his chest. He understands the word "Home", and when the man and his friends take all of the little ones away, he is the only little one who isn't scared. He has faith in this man and he has faith in a future where he will be in the sky.
When he and the others arrives, they are taken to a place that is all green. It is unlike anything he as seen before. The air smells crisp and moist, tickling his nostrils when he takes that first big breath.
There are many other strange creatures in this place. Some big, some small, some skinny and some fat. They come in colors that he has never seen before and make noises that he has never heard before. The other little ones are terrified, they huddle close together and are shy to explore their new world. It is he who first willingly exits the large enclosure they have been kept it thus far. He believes that these creatures won't hurt him. He doesn't even consider it a possibility and he is rewarded with the tentative approach of new friends.
The big, hairy man with the kind hands calls him a word: Brave.
He has many questions about this new place. He asks a little green thing what the prickly thing is that he is standing on.
"This is grass," it tells him. "We can eat it. We can sleep here."
"And this is water," a blue thing tells him, upon his continued probing. "We can drink it. I like to stay here best of all, but I don't think this is a good place for you."
The green things and the blue things are called Bulbasaurs and Squirtles. He shows them the fire on his tail, glowing bright and healthy with his youth. The blue thing is curious about it while the green thing is fearful of it. He is very proud of his tail, but learns that not everyone likes his fire and so he keeps it to himself.
He is called a Charmander and this is where his life will begin.
As the months pass, the days grow warmer and more reminiscent of his birthplace. He spends much of his time laying in the sun, or observing the other creature that live on the land. He finds himself increasingly fascinated with the water of the lake. Sometimes the sun makes the top of it glitter like diamonds. Sometimes when no on is around, he dips a hand in, just for a moment. He likes disturbing his reflection in the water and watching it scatter away and then reform again. But soon he will get a chill, and he knows it is time to go away.
One day, a little green thing starts to follow him him around the yard. She follows him as he walks around the grass, and eats with him when the large man feeds them. She has a shape on her forehead that has four points on it. It is how he tells her apart from the rest (who all look terribly similar in his opinion). She is not scared of his fire and she curls up next to him when they go to sleep, which is strangest of all. He finds that he doesn't mind her company.
"Have you seen a Venasaur?" she asks him one day. They are sitting underneath the sun, watching the big white clouds above them drift by. He is constantly dreaming of flying one day like his mother. The other creatures tell him that if he keeps looking upwards, he'll eventually float away. He wishes that were true.
"No," he replies, suddenly remembering that she has spoken to him. "What is that?"
"It's what I will be when I grow up," she says. "Big and strong, with a beautiful flower on my back. But I ... I don't know if I want to grow up."
He couldn't understand that. All he dreamt about was touching the clouds. "Why not?" he asks.
Her red eyes look up at him. "I like being fast. I like going wherever I want. When we grow big like Venasaur, it's hard to move. It takes so long and it makes me so upset when I see them."
"You don't have to get big," he tells her earnestly. "The changing is a choice."
She smiles. "I know. But if my trainer wants me to be big, I will want to make him happy. I will have no choice but to get big, won't I?"
"He will understand," he says. "If he is a good trainer, if he is someone who deserves you, then he will definitely understand."
She leans against him and closes her eyes, a sad little smile on her face. "I hope so," she says, and then, "If we meet again, and I am still small, will you take me flying?"
"I will," he promises, and they fall asleep under the sun.
A lot of the other children are leaving one by one, getting ready to go on their journeys across the world. After saying bye to all their friends, it is just the two of them left. They sit together outside, waiting for someone to get them. Today is the day that he and his green friend are going to be chosen. He feels it in his bones and it makes the fire on his tail flicker in anticipation.
"Do you think they will like us?" she asks him worriedly.
"Of course they will," he replies. "How could they not?"
One of the assistants puts them inside their pokeballs. Then he is in the world again, on a table next to his green friend. He sits down and yawns, tired from what felt like a long sleep.
Two humans stand before them. A boy and a girl. They have dark fur on their heads and they smell like they are the same breed. Like the Maple trees that smell sweet and earthy. The girl approaches him first, her hand outstretched in greeting. He allows it, and she puts her hand on his neck, scratching that part that he can never reach.
She is small for a human, even smaller if she were compared to some pokemon. But she is big to him. She fills his whole field of vision. Tan skin, dark fur, a pink mouth filled with lots of teeth, twice as many than he himself has. She comes to him with good-intentions, but her touch isn't that gentle, it isn't that soft. It's abrasive and a little uncomfortable. But he is made of fire, and so he is used to this kind of thing.
She keeps looking at him, her eyes flickering to his fire and then back to his face. He smells bad memories on her. Pain. He senses her fighting them away, focusing on him. She is making herself believe that he won't hurt her. She is willing herself to have faith.
Nervous.
Anxious.
But Brave. Brave because she holds on and rides the waves of fear. She conquers it. He likes this about her, and when his green friend tries to claim some attention for herself, he finds himself pushing her away. Already he is possessive of this human. He needs Brave. He needs someone like this.
This is the person who will make me touch the clouds, he thinks to himself.
He notices the color of her eyes last of all. They are like the water from the lake that he is never supposed to go near. Rippling, changing, at one turn crystal clear and at another hiding something scary and unrecognizable in their depths.
Pretty. Scary.
Danger? Is this Danger?
He looks down. should avoid the lake. He shouldn't let himself be tempted by the shimmer of of the sun's light on a warm day. He shouldn't be charmed by the sparkling droplets that cling to the grass when he first wakes up in the morning.
But he looks up at her eyes and he feels himself falling in anyway.
She smiles.