I always wanted to be a Pokemon trainer. I guess some would say that I was born to be one. It runs in the family. My father, my sister, my mother, they were are all trainers in their own rights before I came into the picture. Dad made it all the way through the elite four in Sinnoh before falling to the champion by the narrowest of margins. He met my mom, settled down Whitney was born. So needless to say, I was always around Pokemon The thing is, dad wanted to help people. Professor Rowan noticed how he helped the kids, showed them how to bring the best out of their friends, even lent his own Pokemon for them to capture their starter. I mean, how awesome is that? Still. The professor noticed and got in touch with The League. They approached him and offered him an opportunity. They'd heard that one of the gym leaders in Hoenn was getting ready to retire in the next few years. They offered the job to him. I was three at the time. Of course, dad was away a lot. He spent most of the year in Petalburg city to perfect what he already knew, turns out, there's a lot more to being a gym leader than handing out a badge to those who are worthy.

It isn't always about battles you see.

Still. Things might have been different if Dad had been home when it happened. I was six years old and itching to be a trainer like my big sister. I idolized her you know. So I'd play at catching Pokemon, being careful not to stray too far out of mom's view. Only. . . that day was different. I was being a brat, to be honest, and I decided to play hide and seek with my mom. Only she didn't know we were playing. It was fun though, and I was still careful not to stray too far. That is, until I heard them. Little mewing sounds. My curiosity got the best of me and I went further than I ever did before. The baby shinx were adorable and I did what any six years old would do when confronted with a bunch of cute fuzzballs. I went to play with them. I don't remember much of what happened afterward. I remember a lot of pain, teeth flashing, lightning crackling, the sound of ozone.

I remember my mom screaming my name. She got hurt trying to save me. She only had two Pokemon left with her by then, and they weren't use to battling, but they did try. People are surprise that I still want to be a trainer after this. They don't understand why I'm not terrified of them, even if it was just for a little while. I don't want to explain to them why. It's almost like my secret. My mom said I invented what I saw, but I know that's not true. There was a Lucario there that day. He was too late to prevent the first round of attack, but he did save my life, standing between me and the Luxray, strong and powerful, radiating defiance. His stance said it all.

''You will not harm that child while I have breath left in my body.''

How can I be scared of them after that? Why should I be angry at Pokemon for trying to protect their cubs from what they perceived as a threat? How can I be scared of them when one of them saved my life even though he didn't have to?

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the Jubilife Pokemon Center. They told me that I was a very very lucky girl. They hadn't know if I was going to wake up again. Between the laceration and electric shocks . . . Well they thought I'd be in a coma for the rest of my life. They told me that I'd died three times, if only briefly, and that each time, it had lasted longer, that it had been harder to bring me back before I suddenly stabilized and I was out of the wood, aside for the not waking up thing. I had a long road to recovery in front of me they told me, and it was. I'll never be able to run a marathon, but I can walk, and the limp is barely noticeable nowadays.

Still, mom . . . changed after that. I'd bear the physical scars all of my life, but she was the one that bore the ones no one could see. When Whitney announced that she'd received a scholarship in Johto to eventually become a gym leader there, mom took it. . . hard. There was a big fight, but Whitney didn't really need parental permission. She was old enough to compete in The League, which meant that she was old enough to go without mom and dad's permission. She packed her things and left that night. She hugged me before she left and told me I'd always be welcome in Goldenrod if I ever wanted to visit her. I cried. I was just five years younger than her, but she'd always been there regardless. Even when she was on her journey, she visited often.

The house became silent after that. So when dad was instated as the Petalburg Gym Leader, mom decided to move to Hoenn. We made it there in no time it seemed like, and I had lots of plans. There was a Pokemon professor living there. The plan of course was for us to get settled in, then go visit my dad in Petalburg and he'd help me catch a pokemon. That was I'd be able to start my own journey. Of course. Things never turn up how you expect them to, right? If I'd stayed home, how different would my journey would have been? I was almost at the neighbors' house when I heard the cries for help. I ran for it, limp and all, before I saw that a man that could only be Professor Birch besieged by a pokemon I'd never seen before, well not in person.

''In the bag!''he called when he saw me. ''Hurry!''

The poochyena stood between him and his salvation. So, going against my manners, I reached in his bag and grabbed the first pokeball I could get my hands on. They say that anyone can become a good pokemon trainer with hard work and patience. But the truly great ones are born to it, and from the rush, I had a feeling that it did indeed run in my family. The Torchic was a ferocious little thing, and it listened to my every commands. It didn't take long for the poochyena to turn tail and run.

''I've never seen anything like it,'' he said, taking me out the rush I had. ''Torchic shouldn't have listened to you. He's my pokemon, for the moment. But he never ever even hesitated. He trusted you.''

''Oh," I said, feeling my cheeks heat up. ''I think that he was just worried for you, Professor, sir. He only heard the instructions and obeyed them.''

I get tongue tied around strangers. It's just the way I am. I've always been call sweet, shy and modest.

''Is that so?'' he asked, clearly amused.

And I could understand why. The Torchic was completely ignoring him, instead choosing to hope on shoulder and investigate my hair. It tickled and I giggled.

''Wait. You're Norman's girl, right?'' he asked, and continued when I nodded. ''You're telling me this was your first pokemon battle?'' another nod. ''Alright. Come with me to my lab.''

So I did as I was told, letting the little guy perch on my shoulder as I walked side by side with authority on Pokemon in the Hoenn region. He motioned for me to sit down, and I did as I was told.

''It's my understanding that you don't have a pokemon of your own yet, is that so?''

''Yes, sir.'' I replied. ''Dad was going to help me catch one and -''

''Oh. That won't be a problem. It's obvious that torchic has bonded to you, and as it was, he was going to go without a trainer until at least next year. Take him as my thanks, young lady.''

I was overwhelmed at the thought. This little creature? Mine? A friend of my very own? A gave him a scratch and he closed his eyes and leaned in. Oh. This was the beginning of something beautiful, I could tell.

''First things first though. We need to get you properly set up, you know what that means, right?'' he asked without really doubting the answer.

Of course I did. Being a trainer, a professional one like I wanted to be, was more than just pitching Pokemon against one another. You needed to get your license and a badge case, and the license meant that you needed to be tested on your basic knowledge of Pokemon. It meant a full physical to see how fit you were and if it was responsible to let you go on your own on a journey.

He set the rules in motions of course. He didn't mind. He'd seen me battle and knew that I was suited to it and that this was just a routine thing. I mean, nobody had been diagnosed with it in three decades, and I'd been tested at the age of five and the tests had come clean and none of the strain just spontaneously showed up. Or so we thought. Guess the world was about due for a new case, because my tests came back positive for Type B Nuzlocke.

"I. . . Eliza, you know what this means, right?" he asked after telling me.

I didn't answer right away. I was feeling a little numb. The Nuzlocke Afflicted were a different brand of trainer. They tended to rise to the top, to be better than other trainers. Their was all sorts of perks depending on which strain you have that would develop in time. At a great cost, too great a cost for most of the- most of us.

But others. . . others weren't so kind. They use their pokemon's death as a shock tactic. Almost everyone I've ever met would be horrified to be responsible for the death of a pokemon. Those people tend to be the worst of scum and just thinking about them makes my blood boil. But the majority of them are still dangerous trainers. The perks apply to them. Still. They're the reason for The Law. The League can't stop the Nuzlocke afflicted from participating, it would be discriminating, but they can restrain the damage they do. For the good ones, it means little. They love all their pokemon regardless. They're just restricted to how many they can catch. It's a huge bummer. But at the same time, it's more of a challenge for the trainer of our caliber.

I'd be damned if I was going to let anything stop me from achieving my goals.


IT IS DONE, LORD. SHE HAS BEGUN.

VERY WELL. LET THE FIRST TEST BEGIN. LET US SEE IF SHE IS THE ONE WE HAVE WAITED FOR, OR IF GIRATINA WAS MISTAKEN.