Hello Pokefans looking for a touching story. I'm Chubs34, at your eyes' service. I hope you can enjoy my story. I've worked hard on it, and will on each chapter. There will be songs listed just after the pre-author's notes. You should open a new tab and listen to them from any music player. I hope to give you an heartbreaking story. But I will try to ease it with a bit of comedy in between. Please enjoy.
Songs: Get Out Alive- Three Days Grace

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Escape! Run! Don't look back! Just run! I've lived my life! You haven't! You can live!

That was all the hatchling heard. Escape. Flee. Live for another day. To escape meant life, to stay with Mother meant death. To leave was to dive blindly into a torrent of confusion, fear, pain. But it meant life. Life was what she wanted.

But to stay was to die with his mother. At least in the Hall of Origins, like his mother told him, they'd be happy forever. But what about the Pokemon who hurt them? They would be free, alive to hurt even more.

The Hatchling stood at the bank of a river, it's width doubled by the recent rains. He looked behind his blue feathered body. He could hear the evil one's shouts, calling for him. He tried to remember what his mother told him. "If you want to get out alive," She embraced him closely as she faded away, even though it pressed him against one of her wounds. She groaned in pain but needed to tell her baby what to do. "Run for your life. Leave me. I've lived my life. Now you go live yours. I'll always love you." She held him tighter for a moment, then heard the attackers rustling through the bushes. She pushed him away and screamed for him to escape. He ran, not knowing what else to do. How could a child watch it's own mother die?

Did he jump in, fulfill hs mother's final request? Live, grow up, find a mate? Or did he refuse out of the fear of the unknown? He never got the chance to decide. Fate, Divine Intervention, simple dumb luck...whatever you want to call it, it chose for him.

The soggy ground gave way beneath his tiny feet and he fell into the rushing waters. His mother always told him not to go around here. These were rapids. Very dangerous. He wasn't allowed here until he was older, and a better swimmer.

Suffice to say, he was not a good one at the moment. Not to mention his debilitating fear and confusion.

He tumbled around, banging against rocks and pebble violently. He wanted to scream in terror and pain for his probably murdered mother, but his instincts told him that if he did, he would definetly die. They kicked in, and he felt himself kicking and flapping his tiny flippers in an attempt to breach the air and draw sweet, sweet air.

It was in vain.

Thrashing about, he tumbled head over feet, not being able to coordinate even in the slightest manner. His lungs eventually spended that last of the little oxygen he had, and in what could have been his final moment of life, he apologized to his mother for not being able to protect her. For not being strong enough. For failing her in her darkest hour. Emotions flooded through the hatchling's mind like a tsunami. Or the water of the rapids he, being a Water-Type, was ironically drowning in. Self-loathing for his weakness. Terror and shock from the last half hour. Confusion on what to do if he did by a miracle survive.

In the split second before darkness wrapped him in it's cold, loving embrace, he knew what he would do. Like his mother, he would save Pokemon. No matter what. Even if they attacked him in fear, or they hated his guts, he would still endeavor to assist them in their time of need. But secondly...he burned, no lusted for one thing. A thing that could make honest men lie, make a winner lose(fuck you Charlie Sheen), make a tough man cry, the one burning, consuming hatred that could make a Saint sin:

Vengeance.

Even if it killed him, maimed him, threw him into the darkest corners of the Distortion Zone, he would kill the bastards who killed his mother. He would follow them into Giritina's maws just to see the last little flicker of Life-Light be snuffed, wither and die, and feel the Zangoose and Slakoth's corpses go limp in his wings. He'd go through the the good side of bad and the down side of up and everything in between. But if this were to send Talan himself to reside in the Giritina's cold, black realm after he claimed his vengence...

Then he's going to have to look up just to see the home of the Dark Patron.