AN: Welcome to my first foray into the world of fanfiction. I've had the idea for this story quite recently in contrast to all the other, much more elaborate pieces that I've been playing around with. I'll need a great deal more experience before I feel confident to commit to writing those. So I thought I'd start out with this lovely uplifting little nugget of hardship and revenge.

In feudal Johto, where we lay our scene…

Prologue

That beautiful scenic village, the heart of so many tranquil memories was drowning in a blaze of orange. Watching from the wet rice fields that flanked the east of the village that he called home was a young boy. He was immobilized with disbelief, almost hypnotised by the beauty of the vivid flames that licked at the humble wooden buildings his father had helped to build. There was nothing but suffering before Ronan; the air was filled with the sounds of screaming and the crackling of the fires. Masked attackers were dragging villagers from their hiding places and executing them out in the open. And there less than half a mile away, amidst all the chaos, he could almost see himself standing in awe of the devastation. How long had he been standing there? Eyes wide with reflections of the fire dancing upon them, breathing in the panic and woe, a pile of firewood dropped at his feet. It was far too dangerous to linger here any longer, he didn't know the reason why, but his home was lost to him.

He should be helping his family and neighbours but what can a twelve-year-old do to help when everyone and everything he knows is being cut down and set ablaze? What malevolent force could so such a thing? Were his family safe? Hurt? Dead? Countless questions raced through Ronan's mind as he turned and ran away, ran far away, through sprawling fields of pale azaleas to the edge of the forest looking for anything, anyone. He was staying away from the paths that had guided him around his family's land since learning to walk in order to avoid the murderous raiders that could be anywhere. He had no destination in mind, just as far as his feet would carry him in any direction that looked safe.

The boy vaguely recognised the area from his childhood but he couldn't remember when he'd come here or why in the past. The sun had set and he was nearly exhausted, now being spurred on by adrenaline alone. His breathing was fast and frantic with the onset of pure sorrow as his mind began to fixate on the likely fates of his father and grandfather, his big brother and little sister. He stopped and his heart stopped with him, it sank under the weight of loss. His family was gone and he was lost on the outskirts of the wilderness, he couldn't remember how to get back to the village even if he'd wanted to. There was nothing around but those plentiful pink flowers that identified the nearby Hiwada as the town of Azaleas. Ronan couldn't help but feel patronised by them, they were always beautiful and carefree, undaunted by how cruel life could be, which he was learning.

He was going to survive this though, that's all that mattered. Rather than sitting and battling with his own traumatized mind, with a reservoir of strength he wasn't aware he had, Ronan began forward again. The pace he set now was barely faster than walking but anything was better than waiting to die here, he had to make use of this energy before the reservoir would run dry. He had barely got going again when the snap of a twig caused the boy to drop down and freeze dead still, they'd found him. Though terrified, it didn't really come as a shock now he was aware he'd been caught, did he really expect to elude a band of killers? But, for the longest time, no tracking party came out of the forest nearby. There was still the faintest of rustles from the bushes, he didn't sand a chance; what were they waiting for?

And then it appeared, one of those strange pink quadrupedal creatures that laid about the farmland in the wetter seasons. Slowpokes were supposed to be harmless, but should be treated like any Pokémon, with extreme distance and caution. It didn't even seem aware of Ronan so he started to slink away, keeping focused on the creature all the while. His heartbeat started to settle from the initial shock since he was nearly out of harm's way but as he put down his foot again expecting firm ground, what he found was nothing. He was tumbling down a steep wall of dirt scattered with the occasional rock. Ronan grabbed at whatever he could but he was at gravity's mercy, he was unconscious before he reached the bottom.

When the boy came to, the sun must have just risen. Soft light shone down over the boy's battered body, which lay splayed out at the bottom of the cavern. When he sat up, all he could focus on was a brilliant white light. It wasn't the sun, it shone from upon a ledge overhead behind him; the light grew, twisted, and morphed before his eyes. He realised he wasn't in a forest anymore; he was sat in a shallow pool of water somewhere cold and dark. Ronan stared at the light as it slowly dimmed, leaving purple spots dancing in front of his eyes. Dull pain started to radiate from his thigh and back. Smaller, sharper pains became apparent on the boy's arms and legs and began to sting. They were most likely cuts but rather than check himself over, Ronan kept his focus on the light as it disappeared completely. A large pink bipedal creature stood in place of the light, breathing slowly, staring at him but not moving.

He should be terrified of a Pokémon this large and this close, but this one obviously had no predatory instinct or at least not at the moment. The hulking Pokémon turned to look at its tail, which supported a huge spiralled shell before letting out a low bellow and starting to trudge off into the dark of the cave. Ronan winced as he rose to his feet and looked around, there were several more Slowpokes lying around, barely visible in the dark of the cave, this was Slowpoke Well, no doubt about it. Though he'd unwittingly shielded himself from attention for the night, Ronan would find no help down here.

The climb out of the well wasn't easy, the modest ladder at the entrance led to a bank of muddy ground that threatened to send Ronan spiralling back into the well again at any moment. He had heard that the town of Hiwada owed the Slowpokes that dwelled in the well a great deal for ending a great drought decades ago. This miracle must either have been long forgotten or a lie given the well's current condition.

As the light of a new day washed over the boy who finally stood atop the well, he couldn't have felt much worse. Even though all he wanted to was to let go and let his heart implode, the hunger that was turning his stomach inside out forced him to backtrack. It was easier to navigate the fields now the newly risen sun was suspended over the east. A fire as big as the one that was burning last night would surely have attracted attention and mobilised the imperial forces in Hiwada before long. Ronan knew that Hiwada was too far to have saved the farming village during the initial attack but the Imperials must have subdued or scattered the attackers during the night. He would almost certainly be taken to Hiwada by Imperials in the village, there wouldn't be much left judging by how quickly the fires were burning. The quickest way to find shelter would be an imperial escort. So began the lonely walk back to the village where he had lost everything.