1. Reflect

There's a lot more to a person than a name to put with the face, but that's the first thing we always ask a stranger, isn't it? So, to introduce myself, I won't start by telling you my name but about what really is important in understanding me.

I love nature. I think, aside from my father who was a Pokémon ranger and who spent more time in the forest than his own home, I loved the rivers that flowed in our backyard, the giant red oak trees that stood prouder than their skeletal, manufactured counterparts, and—of course—the Pokémon that lived in these places more than anyone.

Grey, my father, took me on his "hunting" trips more often than my mother liked. She was a researcher, so she felt that it was in her daughter's best interest to be rightly educated, and decided that the outdoors distracted and pulled me away from my studies. But in reality, I learned so much from interacting with the world, much more (I think) than from dull textbooks and the words of an indulgent teacher.

On these field trips, Grey would wake me long before the crack of dawn, a gloved finger to his handsome face, telling me to be quiet so as to not wake my mother who most likely pulled an all-nighter at work, with a knapsack filled with food and tools in his other hand. He would grin, and despite my grogginess, I would, too. And then he would ruffle my hair and step outside where I would meet him once I threw on my clothes and tied up my hair, which was long then and even longer now.

Where we lived, in a modest house just outside of Goldenrod where Mom's lab was, mornings were chilly, afternoons sweltering, and nights were cool, so I'd always dress in layers. And these layers would come off and either stuffed in my bag or tied around my waist as I helped Grey dig for rocks, collect the leaves of strange plants to be examined and pressed into journals later, and catalog what type of Pokémon we find and where. It was on one of these trips that I built my first fire. It was a flimsy, sputtering thing that fed feebly on slightly damp sticks and a few crackly leaves. Grey could've captured a fire Pokémon and built a much more powerful one in half the time I took to even get smoke, but he had fell through ice into the lake and was too tired, hypothermia settling in. Nevertheless, he had grinned tiredly and patted my head and said, "That's my girl." I had flushed, but I was so, so proud of what I had accomplished. That tiny fire was my creation, and it had helped someone. I knew then, gazing at the flames that were growing brighter as they consumed the leaves, that that was what I wanted to do with my life.

Since that trip to the tundra, I had been on many more dangerous ones that were never to be mentioned to my mother. We sometimes got into tight spots, but since that heart-stopping moment when I thought for sure that Grey was dead after he was brought to the surface by a dewgong, I always made sure to carry precautions and read up on where we were going. I think my mother saw my studious habits as a sign, though, and when I shot ahead in my studies, she was more adamant than ever that I had the best education.

So, I was drilled with redundant math concepts and more scientific theories than I cared for while I drummed my pencil against the desk and stared out the window. I made sure to get the seat next to it in every lecture. The trips slowed to a special treat that happened only once every few months…and then, one day, they stopped all together.

Because Grey had vanished.

I remember that day so clearly, as if I could turn around and it would happen all over again. A few days before, we had gone on one of our trips, the first one in four months. It was my twelfth birthday present, one that took a lot of pleading to my mother who finally relented when I promised to attend one of her conventions in the spring. Grey had promised that he would take me to a very special place he had found, but he wouldn't tell me where. And I never did get to find out. I had fallen asleep on his staraptor, having pulled a long night studying for a physics exam.

When I woke to Grey's gentle shake, it was bright afternoon; the journey had taken more than half a day on Sinnoh's fastest bird, so this could be anywhere.

And oh—it was glorious.

A brilliantly clear, placid lake stretched as far as the eye could see, with snowcapped mountains in the distance, and the scent of rich earth and pine was strong under the sun's hot touch. I could hear bird Pokémon not native to Sinnoh chirping their call to family, and the occasional rustling of the bushes as quick legs darted across the ground. A flower that I had never seen before was blossoming at this time of year, a ruby red one with large, dipping leaves and long, elegant stamen. I came closer and saw that it was quivering in the breeze as it strained to soak up the sunlight. It resembled a ten-pointed star with a gradient of red that faded into the lightest pink from the tips of its many velvet petals.

Typical Grey was more interested in rocks and geographic formations, so he had moved on ahead to scout out rocks and these unusual rock protrusions that had iron veins. We spent several days doing this: me, writing entries of different species in one of Grey's many leather-bound journals, and Grey, breaking up the rocks' compositions and marking them on a map he had made. They were everywhere, as we found out, scattered in the forest that surrounded the quiet lake. It was under one of these large interruptions in the earth that we found an opening that led to what seemed like an underground labyrinth. The ruby red flowers seemed to prefer the darker soil around the rocks, so they were like a bright marker in the dark forest that had guided us to the entrance of the cave.

Or, lagoon, really. I can still vividly remember when I first looked down past the ledge where Grey and I crouched, and saw the eerily still waters. It was difficult to make out with the little flashlights we had, but when Grey lit a red flare and threw it to his right with a grunt, the light showed a natural path that twisted out of sight. We were not equipped to go exploring in a dangerous cave, and Grey knew that. I remember him chuckling lowly and patting my shoulder in resignation.

"Well, that's that, kiddo. Next time."

And though he had said it with a smile, he had looked back at the lagoon with longing and determination on his face. There was something else, too. Something that lit up his dark gray eyes like nothing else I had ever seen before did.

That was probably the one memory I held onto more tightly than anything else. The expression that he had on his strongly chiseled face, the fierce look in his eyes that had somehow been brighter than the sunlight that lit up his back.

It scares me. It haunts me. My last, clearest memory of Grey before he had faded into that gentle night.