A/N: Hey, look, an original trainer fic! FanFiction really needed another one of these.
I want to try my hand at writing – actual writing – but I have no ideas. So until I do, I'm going to be practicing on Fanfiction. Hopefully I have some skill and you'll enjoy whatever tripe I lay onto these pages.
So, nothing important here. It's your standard OT fic – only not set in a particular region. The region is entirely new. The rules are a bit different. Think of it as a retcon of the animated series, because, let's face it – even though it's set in a world where creatures that have power over the elements are stored in metal orbs and made to fight each other - some things about the anime just don't make any damned sense.
Anyway, I'd rather not give away my whole story in the author's notes itself. Please read on and enjoy!
Prologue
The house was on fire.
It wasn't one of those gradual affairs – a short circuit or a knocked over candle setting something alight, the resulting flames feeding off the oxygen and devouring its surroundings slowly, steadily nourishing itself till it was a threat, an inferno that would swallow up the entire structure. No, the flames were sudden, and furious, and ferociously fatal from the very beginning. The entire ground floor was alight in minutes – the parents, whose room was on the ground floor, never stood a chance.
The second storey was yet unharmed, but not for long. Having extinguished all signs of life on the ground floor, the flames began to snake their way up the wooden stairs to continue their work.
The baby lay in his crib, looking up at the ceiling with a soft gurgle. The noise had awoken him, but he sensed no cause for alarm. He did not recognize the foreign smells and sounds as anything dangerous – and even if he did, there was precious little he could do about it.
He turned his head slowly and looked out the window at the clear night sky. It was a moonless night, with the stars shining brightly - a night for gazing into the depths of space itself.
And then, suddenly, it wasn't.
The baby crinkled its nose. Something had appeared and perched itself on the windowsill. The baby did not know what it was – it had never seen such a thing before. As it were, the baby could only perceive the being's silhouette against the starry backdrop. It was small and bipedal – scarcely larger in than the baby itself, comfortably framed by the window. Its most distinguishing feature was its ears, which extended on either side of its head to form a large, distinct V-shape.
Making no noise, the being leaped over the baby's crib and stepped out of the open door into the hallway. With one of its forepaws, it made a gesture towards the stairway. A shimmering screen of psychic energy rippled into being, keeping the flames at bay. For the moment.
Striding forward, it raised its other forepaw, which was aglow with orange light, and pointed it at the bathroom. Heat and energy radiated off its tiny fist, raising the temperature of the entire floor a degree or two further.
With a shrill cry of "TIIIIII!" the being let loose a searing shot of fire at the bathroom. The ball of flame punched cleanly through the door and walls. The water in the pipes heated up and expanded, bursting the pipes and letting loose a torrential volume of water which sloshed about everywhere. The being of fire protected itself from harm with a spherical force field.
The flames were not entirely quenched – a portion of them still lingered, clinging to the areas that the water had not touched, stubbornly refusing to fizz out of existence. But no matter – the majority of them had been doused. There was little risk of them spreading again.
That did not mean that the baby was safe – much structural damage had been caused, both by the flames and the strange little creature – and the baby was not safe while he was still in the house. Knowing this, the being returned to the room where the baby was kept.
The baby had stood up in his crib now, his small hands gripping the edge, and was watching the being with big, round eyes, following its movements as best he could. The being made its way around the crib, back to the windowsill from whence it had come.
"TIIIIIIII!" Its second cry was accompanied with its forehead and V-shaped ears glowing a fiery red. It hurled itself at the wall and with a single blow reduced it to crumbling ash.
The baby cooed lightly at first, as the creature began to psychically lift it out of its crib, then whined and then began to cry. It was brought to the creature's side, hovering an inch above the floor. The creature then leapt – leapt from the second floor to the ground, the baby right beside. Their descent, however, was not as fast as it should have been, nor their landing as hard. They leapt quite far, a safe distance from the house, so that the baby be safe should the house's integrity have been compromised.
And so they were out.
The orphanage was not far, only a few houses away. The being of fire with its young charge was able to get there with relative easy. The baby had seized to cry after they had jumped and contended himself with emitting a soft gurgle every now and then. Having reached the building, the baby was slowly lowered into a sitting position on the doorstep.
Time to leave. The being began to turn, but stopped. The baby was looking at it with those big round eyes of his. He blinked and reached out a small hand, trying to touch the creature. The creature looked at for a moment and in a lapse of judgment, extended its own paw to make contact with the baby's tiny fist.
The baby's cry pierced the night as soon as he was touched. The being leapt back as if stung and cursed itself for its thoughtlessness. It had touched the baby with the paw it had used to fire at the bathroom, a paw still hot from the creature's own flames. Unnoticed by the being, painful for the baby. Well. He would have something to remember this night by, now, a lasting memento on the back of his right hand.
Next to a crying baby on the steps of an orphanage was no place for the being to linger. With a last look at the boy whose life he had saved, he left.
Chapter One
Fourteen years after the house burned down, a young girl arrived in the very same town.
She was midway between fifteen and sixteen years of age and had been on the road for a while. You could tell that she was experienced – she had that knowing look about her eye, accompanied with a mischievous twinkle or two and a fiery determination to accomplish her goals that practically lit up her face with its intensity. Her red hair was tied back in a ponytail and she wore simple clothes – brown shorts for ease of travel, orange T-shirt, red-and-white sneakers and red fingerless gloves with flame symbols emblazoned on the palms. Yes, this girl was a fiery trainer and she intended to make it known.
Having just crossed Mt. Coronet, she was rather winded from her long trip. She had decided to stop at a small café that seemed to have a lot of trainers hanging about, which could only mean that it was affordable. Sitting at one of the open-air tables sipping on her delightfully cool soda, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Finally, some peace.
"Hey!"
Never mind. She was wrong. No peace for her, at least not quite yet.
With a labored sigh, she opened her eyes to scout for the source of the petulant sound.
She was greeted with the sight of a freckly kid with two similarly spotty friends and the most annoying grin plastered from one of his ears to the other. If she had to guess, she'd say this trying trainer was a little over fourteen and as such had probably not been on his journey too long. Yet he already had two gym badges pinned to his shirt and a belt lined with six Pokeballs. In spite of being on her journey for considerably longer, she only had four Pokemon in her party and could boast of the same number of badges. Not that she considered these deficiencies: she was much richer in terms of experience and her Pokemon were no doubt far stronger than this little rat's.
It seemed the rat did not share these sentiments. "You look like you've been traveling for a long time," he stated.
"Yeah. So?"
"So, 'ow come you only got four Pokemons? And two badges? I had six in a week 'n a badge in two," gloated the boy. His two friends beamed, looking mighty impressed and proud.
Stifling a sigh, she decided to indulge the pest. "What's your name?"
"Ben Pritchett!" he boomed. "Remember that for the next time you hear it."
'When the cops ask me if I know your whereabouts?' She didn't say this, of course. "Ben. The Gym Leaders are some of the best trainers in the nation, more skilled than a simple mind like yours can believe to be possible. No newbie who has been on his journey for a week or so can match such a level of battle prowess. So, each Gym Leader is instructed to see how many badges a challenger has and adjust his lineup and level of play accordingly. You did not beat two of the best trainers in the region at their full level of skill. You would have been torn apart. What you did beat is two of the best trainers in the region, dumbing down their game to a level appropriate for you."
Ben frowned nervously. Of all the reactions he had hoped to incite, a calm yet cold lecture had not been one. Nor could he see where the girl was going with this.
"Leaders stop doing this, however, when a trainer reaches four badges," she continued. "That is the point when trainers are pitted against the full fury of the remaining six Gym Leaders that they choose to face. That is also the point where many trainers, a bit more than half of all trainers, realize they can't handle the heat and drop out. They lack the dedication, the talent, the will and the skill to truly be great." Her green eyes were now narrowed to slits. "These dropouts tend to be shrill, nosy brats such as yourself. Almost exclusively, in fact."
Ben simply gaped for a few moments as he took all this in. His brows soon met and his mouth twisted into a snarl? "Oh yeah?"
The girl wanted to stab herself. Even after being insulted in the most grievous manner possible, the twerp could not respond with anything beyond 'Oh yeah?'
"What makes you so great, huh? As far as Gym badges go, you don't have any more than I do. And it looks like it took you three years to get those!"
The girl stood up. "I have mature looks. True, I've been on the road for a year, but I've spent that time training my Pokemon to be stronger and honing my skills. And I only have four," she yelled the last sentence, forestalling the kid's next verbal jibe, "because I am a fire type trainer, and fire types are somewhat rare."
This made Ben laugh. "A fire type trainer! Oh, wow, you are as bad as you look. Any idiot with a water type could wipe you out."
The girl applauded slowly. "Wow, you know type matchups. Water beats Fire. Genius."
Ben stood up to match the glowering figure of what looked like his soon-to-be murderer. "Knock it. You know what I think? I think you're a weakling who can talk a lot but can't do anything. Else."
The girl removed a Pokeball, making Ben flinch.
"That sounded like a challenge, boy."
"It was!" Ben cried, then steadied himself. "It was. A Pokemon battle to show if you're as tough as you say. I'll make it two on two, go easy on you."
She nearly strangled him then, but caught herself just in time.
"Let's go."
By this time, they had attracted quite a crowd, comprising most of the trainers present as well as a few of the waiters. There was a hoot and some clapping after the acceptance of the challenge, after which the people moved out of the tables and gathered around the open area adjoining the restaurant, which was clearly meant to be used as a makeshift battlefield for the shop's primary clientele.
"Why don't I go first so that you can pick –" Ben began to say.
A cry of "Growlithe! I choose you!" cut him short.
The ferocious pup appeared in a burst of red light. His eyes gleamed and his sleek fur shone, a low growl emanated from its maw. Clearly, this was a strong Pokemon.
Ben seemed to think for a moment before choosing his fighter. "Graveler, it's clobberin' time!"
The four-armed hunk of rock landed on the ground with a heavy thud. It bared its teeth in a threatening smile at the adamant foe standing before it.
The girl smiled. Growlithe was a tough Pokemon, but in the event that even he couldn't face whatever Ben sent out (unlikely, but still) he could also Roar the Pokemon away, throwing Ben off his game a little and slanting the match in her favor. However, the matchup was nearly perfect and she intended to keep Graveler right here where she wanted it.
"Destroy that dog with a Magnitude!" bellowed Ben, though there was little need to shout.
"Fire Spin!"
Though Growlithe were better off using hard-hitting physical attacks, this move had its uses. Opening its maw, Growlithe unleashed a flurry of flames that snaked around Graveler before it could even move, enclosing it in a swirling inferno that would not only trap it on the battlefield, but also hinder its movement. The beast grunted and distracted by its predicament pounded the ground rather weakly, resulting in a fairly low-power Magnitude. Growlithe easily evaded the attack, leaping into the air as the tremors passed and faded rather quickly beneath it. On landing it snarled and began circling its opponent.
"Rock Throw!" Ben cried, determined to keep up an incessant assault in the hopes that a move would connect and KO. Raising its arms above its head, Graveler summoned a rock into existence and hurled it with all four arms directly at Growlithe.
The crowed waited for Growlithe's move with bated breath. What would it do with a projectile whistling straight at it?
The girl knew exactly what. "Rock Smash," she smiled.
Growlithe's forepaws glowed. He swiftly stood up on his hind legs and smashed the incoming rock to pebbles.
The crowd cheered at such a masterful counter. Ben's jaw dropped.
"Iron Head!"
Snarling, Growlithe charged forward. Before Ben could gather his wits about him, the pup's glowing skull connected with his Graveler, directly between the eyes. The Graveler was knocked back bodily, crashing at his trainer's feet, out cold.
The girl blinked. She hadn't expected to knock out the Graveler in a single hit. Not that she was complaining. She'd reward Growlithe later for displaying its exemplary might at such an opportune moment.
Ben seemed completely taken aback at this turn of events. Clearly, he'd expected the match to be over in two moves. As it were, he was the one in a disadvantageous position.
"Buizel, go!" Ben cried, releasing his next fighter without hesitation. The speedy water weasel appeared, glaring at Growlithe.
The girl knew which Pokemon she'd be sending out to deal with Buizel, but wasn't quite ready to recall Growlithe yet. First, she'd knock it down a peg. Hopefully Growlithe was as bulky as he was strong and would be able to take a hit or perhaps two.
"Buizel, Aqua Jet!" Ben boomed, gesticulating wildly with the command. All out offensive, still.
"Stand your ground!" Growlithe bared its fangs as Buizel slammed into it no sooner than his trainer gave her command. It slid back slightly but firmly stood its ground, neither buckling nor showing any kind of weakness. Its eyes remained as furious as ever.
"Will-O-Wisp!"
There were some gasps and murmurs – every one who didn't know what this move was began to check their dex and those who did know marveled at the tactic. At such close range the inaccurate attack was bound to hit. A small blue sphere from Growlithe's mouth singed Buizel badly, burning it and making it cry out in pain. With the burn crippling its attack power and steadily whittling away its vitality, the match was all but decided. Satisfied, the girl raised Growlithe's Pokeball to recall it.
"Pursuit!"
The move shocked the girl, but she still rolled her eyes at the desperation of it. Burned, the Buizel could hardly harm Growlithe much with a Pursuit. She could tell that Growlithe barely noticed the Buizel swatting it as it returned to its Pokeball.
"Pignite! Your turn."
The burly fire-pig appeared in a flash of light, snorting and glaring at its foe. The Buizel glowered back, but trembled slightly, its singed fur clearly visible.
"So, you think that Buizel won't be able to bring down that bulky pig?" asked Ben with a sneer that his voice did not reflect.
"You catch on quick," the girl replied with a wink. "Pignite, Flame Charge!"
Ben snorted. "Aqua Jet again!"
Stop playing Rock-Paper-Scissors, boy, the girl thought to herself as the Buizel plowed into Pignite, who shook it off and responded with a charge of his own. Pignite, aflame, hurtled bodily into the Buizel, knocking it onto its back. It slid back a few feet before screeching to a stop.
"Water Gun!"
"Get under it with a Low Sweep!"
Still on its back, the water weasel issued a spurt of water. Pignite ducked under the stream and placing its weight on its arms, slid one of its legs around, hitting Buizel hard in the side. The Pokemon was knocked into the air, whereupon it executed a graceful somersault and managed to land on its feet, though somewhat shakily, while Pignite rose to his. The two Pokemon stared each other down, waiting for their respective trainers' commands, but before either even had the chance, Buizel swayed, buckled and finally collapsed, done in by the burn that had been gnawing away its health.
The girl sucked in a sharp breath as she recalled Pignite. 2 – 0. She smiled a broad smile and walked past the cheering crowd, over to Ben's side of the field. The boy's eyes were wide and his jaw clenched. He looked like he'd just found out Santa Claus didn't exist.
[A/N: My apologies to any six-year-olds reading this. DEAR SIX-YEAR-OLDS, SAY NO TO DRUGS. THAT IS ALL.]
He snapped out of his reverie as the girl approached him, looking at her strangely. "Well, I … guess I owe you for the match."
The girl waved her hand. "It's okay. Let's call it a practice match. Wouldn't feel right taking money from a newbie." She smiled the sweetest smile she could muster as she pinched Ben's cheek before walking off towards the Pokemon Center, much to the hooting crowd's amusement.
Pignite and Growlithe hadn't taken a lot of damage from the battle, but they had just spent a few days crossing Mt. Coronet with her and she intended to give her team a good night's rest before setting off again. Setting off where, though … she didn't know. Being a monotype trainer wasn't as easy as she'd thought it would be. Sure, she'd thought herself up to the challenge, but … two gyms in one year? Four Pokemon? One of the main reasons she got so angry at Ben, and others like him, was her fear that they may have a point …
After a bit of wandering about and asking for directions she reached the sliding glass doors of the red-and-white building and entered. She spoke briefly to the Nurse Joy at the desk, asking her if they had space for her Pokemon to stay overnight as well as a room for her. After making all the necessary arrangements, she sank slowly into one of the many empty seats pushed up against the walls of the lobby.
The Pokemon was more or less empty, probably because it was late afternoon, after all the trainers who had stayed the night left in the morning and before the new travelers began to arrive come evening. Add that to the fact that there wasn't a gym in the town, meaning that Pokemon would only need to be healed from occasional trainer battes, and you had a Pokemon Center that didn't see too much business this time of day.
Not too much.
There was a boy sitting in one of the corners. He dressed very simply – jeans and sneakers and black T-shirt. A blue sleeveless vest lay on the chair next to him under a red and white cap. He was hunched over in the chair with his face buried in his palms, his black hair a complete mess. The girl could see his shoulders trembling slightly and was pretty sure he was sniffling. A lot.
Let it be clear she wasn't the friendliest person in the world. She got provoked and agitated fairly easily and generally solved arguments by yelling the loudest. People as a rule were apprehensive to approach her – with some twerpy exceptions – and she was usually more than happy to let them keep their distance. But seeing this boy, with his face in his hands and trembling shoulders in a lonely corner of an empty Pokemon Center – she was a lot of things, but apathetic wasn't one of them. Slowly, she stood up and made her way over to where he was sitting. Sitting down next to the chair with his vest and cap, she spotted a small mark on the back of his right hand – a curious, V-shaped mark that looked like an old scar.
"Hey," she said softly. Clearly, the boy had not noticed her approach him. He lowered his hands when she spoke, resting his elbows on his knees, his forearms dangling. He turned his head to look at her, blinking his surprise. His face was rather wet.
"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned.
The boy opened his mouth to speak but soon closed it, unable to say anything. He looked away, then down at the floor.
The girl felt a little awkward – clearly, he was embarrassed. Trying to dispel it, she said to him, "I'm Misty. What's your name?"
He looked at her again. "Ash."
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter; please leave a review! Second one up soon.