WORDS OF KNOLEDGE! This is not going to start yet, I just wanted to get you peoples or whatever you are opinions. Post in the reviews whether or not you want me to start this story next, or if I should wait to start it after a couple more. Now, without further ado, let us begin the prologue~
Prologue
There is a legend, that atop a mountain of freezing cold, there is a man, who sits atop it, endlessly watching the world he used to live in. He is untouched by time. Some say it is the mountain that has frozen him in time, other say it is because he chooses.
They say he lived up there to forget something long forgotten, but that he is also the most powerful trainer in the world. There was a time when people went up the mountain to challenge him, but that none would win.
No matter how strong the trainer, they would fall in the end.
Eventually no one ever ventured up there, and it was put off limits due to too many casualties. The legend of the man was soon forgotten, by all but a few who still lived that had challenged him.
But eventually time would heal all wounds, even those of a man lost in time.
He had gone up the mountain for a reason, but one that he had soon forgotten. There was a time when his name was sung throughout the world. He was the undefeatable trainer. He was the bane of all evil, destroying a evil organization singlehandedly. He was known as the silent trainer, as one who only spoke when absolutely necessary. He was the strongest man alive, but one day, he just vanished.
He sat looking into a pool atop his mountain, never looking away, as he no longer needed to. In the pool, he saw all, no matter whom or where they were, he knew everything about them. But he mostly paid attention to his bloodline.
When he had first come up the mountain, he had come to let himself die, a slow and painful death, to torture himself for who he had failed. That much he remembered.
Eventually, he forgot everything about his past life, except for one color, though he couldn't imagine why. He remembered the color Yellow, as well as some other colors floating around his consciousness. He remembered Blue and Green and Gold and Silver. He remembered Crystal and Oak, and Brock and Misty. But soon, even those words were forgotten.
He remembered few things now.
He remembered he should be dead, his coat bloodied and thrown off the mountain. He remembered he lost something or someone important to him. He remembered his Pokémon, that they were his best friends, and that they stayed with him, constantly training, even though he barely watched them anymore.
He remembered he was a watcher, he watched the world as it grew.
If he felt something was wrong, he would give a nudge to the pool, and it would fix. He watched the people who he knew of as his family. No matter what, they always stopped evil, or when there wasn't evil, they gave birth to the children who did.
He watched his nephew, as he grew up. He watched him marry and his wife give birth to his grand-nephew, a child by the name of Ruby.
He watched him marry a girl named Sapphire, and their daughter gave birth to a girl by the name of Platinum.
He watched as Platinum give birth to a woman, who gave birth to a boy by the name of Black. He knew them all as his family, as his bloodline.
As he watched, time went fast for him. Day went by as weeks, weeks as months, months as years, years as decades, and decades as centuries.
But he never aged, time was frozen for him, and he knew it. He didn't care.
But something changed. He began to feel his blood moving again, his purpose returning. He had finally lost most of his memories, and forgot his past.
For the first time in years he stirred, and his Pokémon knew it.
A small yellow mouse, his Pikachu, snuggled under his arm. Yellow. It sparked something in his memories.
He remembers a voice, one that he loved to hear in the past. It was like a song that he forgot the name, he loved it, and wished he could listen forever, but he knew he could not.
So instead he listened. He felt a tone of sorrow in the voice, and he knew that whoever owned the voice was why he was up there, wasting his life.
He heard it, he heard it tell him to let her go, that he needed to live again, to relieve himself from endless watching, from watching until the world ended, and only then ending with it.
The voice gave him a memory. He saw a face, and in it he saw true beauty. He saw the face of the one he loved.
He saw her blonde ponytail that swayed in the cold wind, and he remembered.
He remembered the times he had spent with her, when he asked her on their first date, their first kiss, and when she died in his arms, the life fading from her as he hugged her close. He remembered wishing that he could have died as well, but he couldn't. Something held him back. He saw himself traveling up the mountain; a pack of Sneasels attacked him, ripping his arm and his jacket, blowing away in the wind, to be found by his friends, they believed he was dead.
He saw himself finding the pool for the first time, and his first challenger.
He recognized the boy who challenged him, the boy was Gold.
Then more people came, and he became more transfixed with the pool. Eventually he let his Pokémon battle alone, him endlessly staring into the pool. Eventually the challenges dwindled, and stopped.
His Pokémon endlessly trained, and he constantly neglected them. That made his heart grow heavy, and he told himself he would never neglect them again.
Then his vision stopped, and he looked upon the girl again, and she whispered something to him, but he knew what she would say before she said it.
He did not wish to, but he knew he must. He looked upon the girl, and in the first words he had said in over a century, he spoke in a pure, crystal clear voice, "I release you"
It was a shock to his mind, and before he knew it, everything he had just remembered was forgotten.
He looked to his Pokémon, all six in his cave.
He looked to the pool, and saw where he needed to go.
He would visit the boy Black. He would visit his bloodline.
He looked to the pool, which had taken him and stopped his aging. He looked at it, and it gave him a number. 200. Two centuries he had stayed upon the mountain, never leaving.
He looked once more at the pool, then kicked it as hard as he could. The pool shattered.
He turned around, and returned all his Pokémon besides his Pikachu and his Charizard. His Pikachu jumped on his shoulder, and he left the cave. Outside, he jumped on his Charizard, and took off, never to return to the mountain.
He had forgotten much, but what he remembered was even more important.
He had forgotten his love, his friends, his life, his voice.
He remembered his Pokémon, he remembered his bloodline, he remembered where he would go.
He remembered his name.
His name, was Red.