A/N – So I have finally returned to this! Rereading what I wrote several years on, I think that there is the potential for this to be pretty good given some TLC. I'm going to rewrite the existing chapters (cutting them down from 21 to 10) and then get this thing moving again.

Your reviews are what keep making me come back here, so please do drop me a message and let me know what you think. The good, the bad, the ugly, the random suggestions…. All are very much appreciated.

Wish me luck!

PP

GENERAL HOUSEKEEPING – PLEASE READ!

This story should be longer and more in-depth than some of the journey-fics out there, so bear with me if things seem to be developing slowly, there is a long way to go!

2. Here, people start their journeys when they are 17 – a load of wild 10 year olds running around the country unsupervised always seemed like a bad idea to me.

3. When I started writing this there were only 5 regions and 17 types in the main games (no Kalos or Fairy Type) so I will be (mostly) sticking to this.

4. A Pokémon starting with a capital letter (eg. Looking smug, Aron took a huge bite of waffle) it refers to a particular member of that species; a lower case letter (eg. Several butterfree fluttered over to us, or, "Oh, I love pichus!" exclaimed Claire) refers to that species more generally.

5. I'm from the UK, so British spellings rule.

All taillow should be shot, I thought as yet another of the small birds sped, cackling shrilly, beneath my window. Normally I was a very much the pacifist but, having been too excited to sleep until well past midnight, the early awakening was not appreciated.

I groped around on my bedside table, found my alarm clock, and gazed blearily at the face. 6:30am - two hours until breakfast. As eager as I was to begin my journey now that my 17th birthday was finally here, I owed it to my father to say goodbye properly rather than sneaking out of the house whilst he slept. Resigning myself to wakefulness, I dragged myself out of bed and padded across the plush carpet to the window. Drawing back the drapes, I sighed happily as sunshine flooded the room.

After a few moments of watching the Taillow swooping low over the lawns and flashing down the shady avenues of the garden, I turned back to the room. I figured I might as well use the time until breakfast productively - most of my packing was done, but after a bit of rummaging I found The Official Pokémon Handbook buried towards the bottom of my rucksack.

Trainer registration closed at 5pm, so in less than 11 hours I would have my first ever Pokémon – but I still didn't know which of the official Starters I was going to pick. Sighing, I flicked between their pages in the book, hoping for a sudden bolt of inspiration. Before the Five Regions had synced their trainer programmes, trainers could only choose from the three 'traditional' starters from their region, but now I had 15 possible choices. I chewed my lip as I considered my options. After months of wrestling with the problem, I had narrowed my choice down to two – cyndaquil and mudkip. But which to choose?

*BONG*

Lost in my thoughts, I jumped as the Bronzong downstairs chimed loudly, signalling fifteen minutes until breakfast. I hurled myself into the shower, quickly washing and drying my dark hair before tugging it up into a ponytail. I hunted around for my boots, struggled into my clothes, seized my rucksack, stuffed the Pokémon Handbook in on top and raced down the stairs just as the Bronzong sounded again for breakfast. Pausing to catch my breath at the foot of the stairs, I entered the dining room.

My father's Houndoom growled as I shut the door behind me. My father was already seated at one end of the long mahogany table which stretched the length of the room, his face hidden behind the morning paper. The front page loudly gossiped about the personal life of some politician, whilst a smaller headline announced another attack in Kanto.

Two small concessions to my birthday were sitting next to my place at the table - a small cupcake, the candle atop it marginally less bright than the Litwick in the candelabra, and a present so clinically wrapped that it could only have been done professionally.

"Thanks." I ventured.

My father glanced up and raised an interrogatory eyebrow.

"Thank you for the birthday present," I clarified, gesturing to the present and cake.

"It seemed fitting, given that you are now seventeen and leaving my house." He gave the paper a sharp shake and retreated behind it. His house – the house had been his and my mothers and, after her sudden death nearly a decade ago, it was indeed his. Still, the implication that it was no more my house than a stranger's still stung.

I turned my attention to the present, it was about the size of a Cleffa and surprisingly heavy.

"Leave it." My father was surveying me critically over the top of his paper again. "You may open it after first accompanying me to the mine this morning." My face fell. After so many years cooped up in the house with him, I was desperate to finally leave and loathe to postpone my journey by even another hour. I opened my mouth to protest, but –

"That was not a request Aliea, it was an order. You are now an adult and must learn to carry the responsibilities of one. You will visit the mine before beginning your journey, to better appreciate at least one small part of the business you are eventually to inherit."

I struggled to keep down years' worth of resentment, but managed to reply, "Yes, father." I reached out and snagging a Pecha berry from the bowl in front of me, carefully slicing it to avoid bruising the flesh.

The rest of breakfast passed in silence, the happy giggle of one of the Litwick as it 'liberated' the candle from my cupcake the only sound bar that of the cutlery.

After breakfast I returned to my room one last time, collecting my jacket from the foot of my bed, and buckling around my waist my Trainer Belt with its 6 empty Pokéballs in their little niches. I took a moment to savour the anticipation as I ran my fingers over their cool shells, wondering which Pokémon they would soon hold.

"Aliea!" my father's voice echoed up the stairs.

I gave my room a final glance, then turned and hurried back downstairs. I crossed the great entrance hall, the crystal chandelier throwing rainbow darts high up on the walls, and walked to where my father was waiting by the front door. His Fearow (another rare Pokémon here in Hoenn) was sunning itself on the steps next to him. It eyed me with dislike as I approached, but a sharp glance from my father made it stand quietly whilst I climbed onto its broad back and settled my legs on either side of its tawny neck. My father settled himself behind me, and with a slight nudge of his heels the great bird leapt into the sky. I loved exhilaration as we soared away from the ground, circled the great gardens once, and then wheeled to face the distant mountains.

By the time we landed maybe an hour later, some of the excitement had worn off and I staggered slightly as I dismounted, my legs stiff and aching. Father stroked the great bird's neck and then recalled Fearow, striding ahead of me towards the entrance to the mine. Passing through a tunnel, the roof gaudy with twisting coloured wires, I found myself in a vast hall. It was an immense space, easily large enough to let a charizard fly about inside, and the air vibrated with the pounding of distant machinery. Scattered around the floor were entrances to smaller tunnels, and a wooden walkway snaked its way up the walls to provide access to still more.

My father began walking to and fro, pointing out to me the various machines and structures which littered the hall and informing me about them in meticulous detail. It was probably not disinteresting, but my resentment and longing to finally be free made me desperate for him to finish. With some relief I noticed a harried looking man approach and engage my father in a panicked whisper;

"…rising water levels…the new seam…"

"The promising one?"

"Yes sir, Shaft 7."

"Right, where is Andrews? Has he been informed?"

A few more whispers, then;

"Aliea, it seems there is urgent business I must attend to. You are to remain in this hall, I shall be back within the hour."

With that my father strode away, issuing commands, reprimands and questions almost continuously to the supervisor scurrying at his side. I angrily scuffed the ground with my foot. I could be on my way to trainer registration right now! I slumped against the wall, resigning myself to the wait. The minutes ticked by.

My silent sulking was cut short by the sound of raised voices. It was hard to hear anything over the dull pulse of the machines, but they seemed to be issuing from the mouth of a nearby tunnel. Curiously I approached the tunnel and took a few steps along it. It was much cooler and quieter here, and a set of silvery mine cart tracks quickly disappeared around a corner ahead of me. From where I was now standing I could get a better idea of what the voices were saying;

"You useless piece of dirt!"

"Vermin!"

"Now we have to waste our time fixing the bloody track!"

"We're gonna make you pay for this, you stupid whelp!"

There was a thump, then a weak cry.

Peering around the corner I could see the backs of four mine workers clustered around something about ten meters in front of me, but through the wall of legs and bodies I was unable to see what it was. One man drew back his leg and aimed a powerful kick at something huddled on the ground. It obviously connected, because there was a shrill little cry and the men jeered again.

Not considering the idiocy of my actions, I stepped out onto the tracks behind them;

"What in Arceus' name do you think you're doing!?"

As one, the four turned to stare at me. The one I took to be leader sneered and took a deliberate step towards me, "Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about, darlin'."

He took another step towards me and I finally caught a glimpse of the thing lying by the tracks. Curled up on its side, shivering, scared and obviously in pain, was a tiny Aron.

"Is… Is that a Pokémon?" I was horrified, how could anyone treat another living thing like this?

The ringleader spat on the ground, "Nothing but a stupid waste of space," he growled, and turned to aim another kick at the terrified creature.

Almost without thinking, I tore a Pokéball from my belt and hurled it towards the Aron just as the foot connected. Aron was whisked inside and, too weak to fight its capture, the Pokéball returned to nestle snugly in my hand.

Slowly, the ringleader turned to face me.

"Someone," he said deliberately, his hand reaching for a Pokéball on his own belt, "is going to pay for that."

I began to back away, but in my confusion moved towards another rather than back towards the main hall. As loathe as I was to voluntarily link my father's name with my own, I was about to use it to call the men off when the ringleader threw his Pokéball into the air. As a shape began to materialise in the red glow in front of me, I turned and ran.

"Go Vigoroth!"

Not waiting to see the vicious white primate materialise behind me, I sprinted down the tunnel. Behind me I could hear the wild shouts of the men and rapid clicking of the Vigoroth's claws as they pursued me deeper into the labyrinth. I ran on and on. After a while the sounds of pursuit started to fade and I didn't blame them for tiring, a stitch burnt at my ribs but I couldn't stop yet.

I had been running along the same tunnel, ignoring the mouths of others to try to make finding my way back possible, but now I was slowing. I ducked into the next tunnel and slowly jogged along it. There were no electric lights here and the light seemed to fade with every step. Soon it was so dark that I could no longer see the floor or walls and, certain now that I was safe from those chasing me, I stopped and looked back the way that I had come. Five figures lurched across the golden halo which marked the tunnel's mouth. I was alone. I cradled Aron's Pokéball to my chest, rocking it gently as I tried to calm my frantic breathing.

Suddenly my breath caught in a silent scream as a pair of glowing eyes lit up the dark. I was paralysed, unable to move, and a clawed hand was reaching inexorably towards me.

The world went white.