Chapter 1: A Chance Meeting
Robbie's tenth birthday had been perfect. The day was bright and sunny in Aquacorde Town—a good sign for a beginning a journey. His mother and father had bought him a seven-tier chocolate cake all the way from the best bakery in Lumiose City, and then he had finally got to put on the brand new outfit that his mother had purchased just for his journey: a bespoke blue jacket, black trousers made from Johto's finest Mareep wool, and shiny white Unovan sneakers, just like the ones the basketball players wore. Even the fact that his starter was a Froakie instead of the fluffy, adorable Fennekin that he had repeatedly begged his father to buy him didn't change his mood. After all, the current Champion's starter was a Froakie, and its evolution, Greninja, was one of the coolest Pokémon ever.
As he walked down Route 2, he sprayed a Repel, that his mother had forced him to take, around him. He had to admit that she was right; his Froakie was much better than the filthy wild Pokémon around him, and was obviously stronger. He was sure that he could handily beat any Trainer that crossed his path. Heck, Froakie could probably even beat the Champion right now!
He saw his first opponent in front of him, drinking from a metal water bottle. It was an older boy, at least sixteen, who clearly didn't come from money. His brown boots were well-worn and grass-stained—how could someone be so careless with their shoes?—and his navy blue jacket and dark jeans were clearly off the rack. His blond hair came straight down to his chin—hadn't this guy ever heard of a hair stylist? Robbie called out to him, trying to keep his disdain from being heard. "Hey, you! I challenge you to a battle!"
The boy raised an eyebrow, then put away his water bottle. He did not react as Robbie released Froakie from the Poké Ball. Robbie felt uneasy under his opponent's blue stare, until he saw the opposing Pokémon: a small orange lizard-like creature which Robbie recognized as a Charmander.
"That's so dumb!" Robbie laughed out loud. "Everyone knows that Fire-types are weak to Water-types. Froakie, use Bubble!"
"Frooooa!" Froakie shouted as he fired a stream of bubbles at the Charmander. To both his and Robbie's surprise, the Charmander dodged the attack. The ghost of a smile rested on the other boy's face, but Robbie ignored it.
Before Robbie could order Froakie to do anything else, the Charmander dashed towards them with surprising speed, glowing an ominous blue. It rammed into his partner, throwing the blue frog Pokémon two feet back with the force of the collision. To Robbie's horror, Froakie was instantly knocked out. He saw Charmander's trainer kneel down in front of his victorious Pokémon, whispering encouraging words and giving it a pat on the head before returning it. How he wished to be in that undeserving boy's position!
He sank to his knees, not trusting himself to pick up Froakie's Poké Ball. His green eyes filled with tears, and soon he was sobbing loudly. He wasn't supposed to lose, not to a Pokémon that was weak to his Froakie! And certainly not his very first battle on his very first day as a Trainer!
He did not know how long he had been crying for, but he stopped when he felt a rough hand on his shoulder. To his great displeasure, he realized that it belonged to Charmander's trainer. "What are YOU still doing here?" he spat.
The other boy frowned. "Why didn't you return your Froakie as soon as it fainted? If you were fighting a wild Pokémon, it would have been eaten by now." His gaze was accusatory, and Robbie's anger was replaced with raw shame. He saw a blue shape next to the other boy's leg, and realized that it was Froakie. He gave his starter a watery smile, which the Pokémon returned.
"I used a revive on your Pokémon," said the other boy. "The nearest Pokémon Center is in Aquacorde Town, behind you. You should be able to get back there."
"I can't!" wailed Robbie. "My parents are there, and it'll be so embarrassing to go back on my first day as a Trainer!"
"Then do you have any Potions, or any medical items?" Robbie squirmed in place at the question, remembering the six Potions he had tossed into a garbage can as soon as he had left his parents' gaze. He thought that he would never need them, and now he knew how wrong he was.
"I'll take that as a 'no', then," replied the teen. He tossed a purple spray bottle onto the ground beside Robbie. As Robbie hastily sprayed Froakie with the medicine, he saw the older boy walk away.
Quickly, he recalled Froakie. "Wait! Wait up!" he cried, running to catch up.
The boy stopped for a second, and turned around. Before he could say a single word, Robbie spoke. "Why did you help me? Did you...know who I am?"
The boy raised an eyebrow, and Robbie immediately realized how stupid he sounded. "Well, I'm Robert Montclair. But everyone calls me Robbie."
When the boy still didn't react, Robbie asked, "Who are you?"
"Call me Cal," replied the boy. He looked mildly impatient now.
"Cal, could you tell me what the move your Charmander used was?" asked Robbie, hoping for anything to continue the conversation.
"Dragon Rush," said Cal, turning back towards the forest ahead.
"Could you please teach me how to be a trainer?"
The question froze Cal in his tracks, and Robbie only realized that he'd let it slip out when he saw Cal's disbelief.
"Why are you suddenly so...attached to me? You literally met me thirty minutes ago! For all you know, I could be a serial killer. Or another kind of criminal," Cal's face was stern.
"If you were a criminal, you would have acted right after the battle, when I was crying on the ground," Robbie cringed at the memory. "But seriously, I've learned more about Pokémon and Pokémon training in these thirty minutes then I did with six years of the best tutors that money could buy. I know that you're a very experienced trainer," he saw Cal raise his eyebrow again, and continued quickly, "and I know that I'm not. Could you please teach me?"
Robbie hated how desperate he sounded. He watched Cal's face for any hopeful signs, then relaxed when the older boy nodded.
"Alright, I will train you. But you must be willing to learn," Cal's face was still doubtful.
"Great! How much should I pay you?" asked Robbie.
Cal sighed and rubbed his temples. "The money is not important. As a mentor, my services are free of charge."
Robbie frowned, but followed Cal into Santalune Forest.