Chapter 1: That is One Ugly Fish
I was born in Canalave city in the Sinnoh region to a completely ordinary family. Before my birth, I could say with confidence that there was absolutely nothing unusual about the Blake household. My mother Claudia, was a secretary and my father Derrick, an electrician, while my older brother attended the local school. We weren't well-off, but neither were we living in poverty. Just a tiny drop in the ocean of people, indistinguishable from the rest.
That changed in the autumn, when the baby who would be called Alexander Blake was born into the world, screaming at the top of his lungs. By all accounts I was an ordinary baby. I ate, I pooped, I cried; I did baby things. It was only over the years did my parents notice that I was… different. While I rarely made trouble at home, I was terribly behaved at school and getting me to participate in anything was like squeezing water from a stone. Nor could I socialise with other children my age, even finding it difficult to get along with my brother.
But while my family looked on in puzzlement at my behaviour, I knew the reason for my differences was even stranger.
I hadn't given much thought to what would happen after my death, besides a few idle musings. Even now, even after experiencing it, I could scarcely believe. Reincarnation; an absurd prospect that had turned out to be real. It was also quite clear as to why I ended up in the world of pokémon, even if the how perplexed me. I had just bought Pokémon Platinum version for my little sister's birthday and was on my way home when a shoddily set-up construction frame destabilized and crushed me. And lo and behold, the next thing I know I was being born into the Sinnoh region.
This new world was amazing. Humanity was in what I would term the age of exploration: we had established cities and routes between them, as well as transport between other regions. But even though we knew the shapes of our continents, there were still large parts undiscovered. A huge difference from my old world where every tiny island and river could be found on maps.
But as incredible as this new world that I found myself in was, it was also equally terrifying. Mankind was not the dominant species on this planet. Oh no, that distinction belonged to pokémon. They roamed the forests and caves, lived on the highest mountains where the air was so thin and cold it froze in your lungs. They thrived in the deserts, reigned over the skies and ruled under the seas.
I couldn't wait to get out and explore it all.
I wanted to see it. See if Giratina really did rule over the Distortion World. If the Spear Pillar truly existed at the top of Mt. Coronet. If the underwater temple where manaphy dwell was real. The weather trio, the guardians of Alto Mare, the Tree of Beginnings. I wanted to see and experience all these fantastical things for myself.
How many times had I wished desperately that this world was real? That instead of tapping buttons I could really experience the thrill of exploring the forests, the mountains and fields myself. I had been gifted the greatest gift anyone could have ever given me. And I had no intention of wasting it.
At age four I bore the indignity of attending pre-school. I hated it instantly of course; I found myself surrounded by grubby, dirty children – some of them were screaming, others snotting everywhere, the rest could be found stuffing unhygienic objects into their mouths. Yes, preschool was a special kind of torture, one that I felt I endured with great dignity. My parents and teachers, however, disagreed.
I naturally felt no inclination to take part in all of their exciting clapping games and riveting rhymes. You could generally find me reading books brought from home in the corner of the room, ignoring all of their attempts to get me to integrate with - and I say this with utmost reluctance - my peers.
Children that tried to bother me found themselves disregarded, and when a particularly stubborn one came by, I tricked them into playing 'the silent game'. The one time a young student helper tried to get me to engage in 'learning' and 'stop pretending to read', I accidently made cry by accusing her of becoming a pre-school teacher because she failed to get into the highly competitive degree for becoming a primary school teacher. How was I to know that it had actually happened?
I suppose I came across as a rather unpleasant child.
But despite the horrid situation I found myself in, I persevered, and my efforts were rewarded. It was announced one cool summer morning that as we were approaching age five, we were eligible by league rules to own a class 0 pokémon, should we pass a basic competency test. The test was very simple and essentially boiled down to ensuring you would be kind to your pokémon and remember to feed it. Parental permission was also required, and it was understood the parent also had a responsibility to ensure the pokémon's wellbeing.
The League classified all pokémon not only by their type, but also by the level of danger they pose to humans. Civilians could own up to class 3 pokémon, while trainers with eight badges could own up to class 10. There were certain milestones for the lower classes, arriving at age 5, 10, 12, then at 16 - the minimum age to become a trainer. To own pokémon in higher classes, you had to have the required number of badges. At each milestone, the league felt you had the required level of responsibility to take care and keep control of a pokémon of the corresponding class.
Although there were exceptions to this rule and special permission could be granted. For example, children of elite trainers with positions high up in the league could own higher classes than their age qualifies them for if they are sponsored, on the condition their parent would have joint custody of the pokémon until the child qualifies by themselves. Trainers who join gyms and specialize in a single type can own all classes of that type after graduating from the gym regardless of how many badges they have.
And out of all the pokémon in the world, there were only two that belonged to class 0; Magikarp and feebas.
The reason being that they are extremely weak, and the chances of either of those two evolving is so close to zero, it might as well be non-existent. The two fish really couldn't do much but splash about, with it requiring years of training to get them strong enough to propel themselves with their tails on the ground – essentially the move bounce. And even then, they're still just fish, and most of the species are only about the size of backpack. Fish dropping on you from the air – while surprising and rather absurd – still won't do a lot of damage. Neither fish has enough control over water to learn even the weakest water move, so they are essentially left to throw themselves at opponents when forced to fight. Never has there been a case of a human or pokémon being killed by either fish.
Out the billions of magikarp that exists in the world, only 0.00001% evolve. Most magikarp simply don't have the required attitude to do so, and even if biologically they have the capability, they will never evolve. Magikarp evolve after fighting and surviving many battles, and the ones that do are fierce. Do you know how hard it is to find a fierce magikarp? Nearly impossible.
As for feebas, there has only been six cases in recorded history of a trainer evolving one. The only trainer alive today who can claim this feat is the previous Hoenn Champion and current water gym leader Wallace. But even Wallace himself is perplexed as to how his feebas evolved, and the previous owners of a milotic never spoke of the secret.
Catching a milotic, while possible, is incredibly hard as they live at the bottom of lakes and in the seas. Furthermore, milotic are proud, competitive creatures. Those that evolve in the wild never obey a trainer's command and would rather die than submit. All attempts of taming the beautiful sea serpents have ended in tragedy.
I, however, know exactly how to evolve one. In the games, you simply needed to feed the fish loads of dry poffins to make its beauty go as high as possible. It obviously wouldn't work like that in real life, but the underlying principal was the same.
You need to make the feebas feel beautiful.
Looking at the shoals of fish in person, I think I underestimated how truly monumental this task would be. Shabby patches of brown scales that look like they've seen better days, tattered fins and a really unfortunately shaped mouth. They moved in slow plodding motions, not even qualifying as graceful swimmers. They really were ugly fish.
"Well kid? Which one do you want?" The owner of the feebas farm asked me as I stood next to my parents, looking at the huge man-made pond the feebas were kept in.
"Is it alright if I get to know them before I choose?" I asked.
The man looked rather perplexed but shrugged agreeably. "Sure thing, take your time, we don't close until six."
I had prepared for this in advance, so I took out a truly massive bag of incredibly dry poffins my mother had helped me make. I personally thought it ridiculous that they would increase beauty, but I figured it couldn't hurt to find a feebas with a particular liking for dry food.
I tossed in handfuls, and as the fish came to the surface and sampled the poffins, the vast majority spat them out, leaving only a handful remaining to eat them. When they had finished eating, they bobbed in the water watching me as I crouched down.
"I'm looking for a partner who wants more than a life in a tiny pond and wants to explore the world. Who will travel with me as we risk our lives for the slightest chance of gaining strength, and will remain loyal and unwavering in the face of great danger. It will be difficult, but I swear to you it will be rewarding."
It had surprised me how intelligent pokémon were. Some species were dimmer than others – mostly unevolved rock types – while evolved psychic pokémon all had genius level IQs. However, all of them could learn to understand human speech, and they were capable of incredible feats during battle that Sun Tzu himself would be proud to think up. So speaking to this group of fish thankfully wasn't a sign of my impending insanity.
I received a positive response from the feebas and set about testing them. Sprints across the pond, having them jump out of the water as high as they could, again and again. They left one after another, back to main shoal and I was left to move onto the next pond. None of them had what I was looking for.
To achieve anything in life, you needed grit. The ability to keep going, to push forward no matter how hard it is. And that was the quality I valued most and was searching for. Those that quit and left simply didn't have enough.
It wasn't until the fourth pond that I finally found her.
She didn't look any better than the other fish, in fact, I think she might have even been a bit uglier than the rest of them. But it was during the sprints I had them swim across the pond that I noticed she had something else the others didn't; she wanted to win.
On the first length, she was beaten back to the side of the pond I was on by another feebas and seemed to take great offense to this. She was first back every time afterwards. I then challenged her to try and make it back even faster, and with each attempt, she put in her best effort to decrease her time. It was as we were doing the jumps that I knew she was the one. While the other fish left, she was the only one to stick it out, leaping from the water and wiggling in the air, as if she could will herself to go higher. Even after I had made my decision to keep her, we still kept at it, again and again until she was exhausted. And even then, I'm sure that she would have kept going if I had asked her to. She was perfect.
I crouched down and fed her a handful of poffins, stroking her scales at the top of her head.
"Well done, you've passed my test. You never gave up no matter how hard it was, and that's exactly what I'm looking for. Will you join me on my journey? I promise you that we will see the entire world, that I will do everything in my power to help you grow strong, and should you give me your loyalty, I will give you all of mine in return."
The brown fish nodded her head and wiggled and splashed happily in the pond, causing a grin to spread across my face. I whooped excitedly before bending down and lifting the fish into my arms. She was quite heavy, about the same as a backpack full of textbooks and it was a struggle to lift her, but I managed with difficulty.
"My name is Alexander. It's an honour to meet you. Would you allow me to give you a name?"
The feebas met my gaze and nodded as solemnly as a fish could. In our short time knowing each other, I could recognise that she was a proud, competitive and determined being. I needed a name that captured her essence, that represented her magnificent spirit. Something that would also suit a milotic. A memory tickled at the back of mind and I smiled. A movie I had enjoyed came back to me, and a sea goddess who had a name that was exotic, elegant and suitable for a lady like the one before me.
"Calypso. Your name will be Calypso."
My parents, aware of my personality and having been forewarned of my intention to be thorough when choosing my pokémon, were found reading a book and typing on a laptop. The owner of the farm had not received such a warning and thus was rather irritated that I had – in his eyes – wasted so much time looking for a pet that I would play with for a month before getting bored of and leaving in its pokeball. My parents apologized for taking so long and spoke of the peculiarities of children while paying 300 pokédollars for my fish. Feebas are particularity hardy out of water, and so I stood holding Calypso while beaming like a loon.
And thus, my pokémon journey began with my bemused yet indulgent parents, an annoyed owner of a feebas farm, and an incredibly ugly fish.