Hi. I'm PurpleBanana86. You've probably never heard of me before, and perhaps never will, if this story gets SHOVED INTO THE DEEP DEEP VOID OF DEATH THAT IS THE POKEMON FAN-FICTION ARCHIVES! Anyway, this story takes place about twenty years after the television series (if it ever ends). In this world, Ash Ketchum is married (not saying to who), so is Gary Oak, and they have both settled down. Oh, and Prof. Oak is dead, thank God. Just so you know. Also, this prologue isn't very well written (in my opinion). But please, bear with me and don't just dismiss it. Alright, then enjoy, people who I hope are reading this.

Prologue: How to Talk to Pigs and Other Useful Things to Learn at School

Jeffery Grayson lived a very regular life. He had a regular baby sister, an older sister who he hadn't heard from in three years (which, yes, is slightly unorthodox), two regular loving parents, a regular grandpa, regular friends, and a regular school life, as well as living on a regular farm and in a regular region, the Tryotho region. However, something was very irregular with his regular life: he lived with pokémon. Yes, pokémon, something that wasn't so irregular to him, but rather irregular to us.

Anyway, moving on, he lived with pokémon. He also loved them. At school, he talked to kids about pokémon. They talked back to him about pokémon. He drew pokémon. And he dreamed about pokémon. He wanted to go on an adventure with them, wanted to watch them evolve, and to see them as friends.

Jeff had short black hair, which was very messy and never combed right. He wore a one-size-fits-all mahogany vest, which he wore open over a blue shirt that had a pokéball with a lightning bolt through it on it, which was the insignia of the Pokémon League of the Tryotho region, aptly named the Tryotho League. His shorts were comfy and easy to wear, and also black to boot. He never carried anything around with him, except maybe his Mp3 player. He didn't like unnecessary extra weights holding him back.

On this particular morning when our story begins, Jeff and his friend Craig had both turned fourteen, Craig on the thirteenth of October, and Jeff on the twenty-first of the same month. In the region in which the two boys lived, the local government had thought that sending out ten-year-old kids to fend for themselves in a world of Bikers, Gamblers, and Jugglers was too dangerous. So, they bumped it up four years, which was met with a fair bit of protest from the ten-year-olds of the time, but the parents seemed to like it, so here we are. The two friends attended Pokémon Elementary School (not a lot of thought went into the name), which was holding its monthly Pokémon Graduation Day that evening after school, in which all the student who had turned fourteen in that month received licenses that certified them as official Trainers. That would mean that Jeff and Craig would be allowed to keep pokémon, whether as companions, pets, or combatants, and also entitled them to no more schooling (some people forwent this to stay for a few more years of education, in order to get a different kind of job not involving pokémon). Now, this meant that Jeff and Craig missed out on Halloween, but that was trivial compared to this.

That was rather long, but now to the storyline!

Jeff woke up that morning with a grin on his face. He jumped out of bed, changed out of his pajamas, and rushed downstairs to greet his parents.

"Morning Mom, morning Dad," he said cheerfully, pouring himself a bowl of cereal.

"Good morning, Jeff," said his father, who worked in the Pokémon Laboratory as an assistant to the professor. This meant he got many fringe benefits, which included free transportation wherever the professor went.

"Good morning, Jeff," said his mother, who was a homemaker. Nothing interesting to say.

"Broof," said Mr. Gruff, the pet Growlithe of Jeff's older sister Abigail. After she had left home, all Growlithe-related responsibilities were transferred to Jeff. Jeff squatted down and scratched Mr. Gruff behind the ears. He nuzzled his master lovingly as Jeff fixed him up a nice bowl of pokémon food, which he dug into like he'd never had it before in his life.

Jeff quickly gobbled down his bowl of cereal, then rushed back upstairs to brush his teeth.

Mr. Grayson sighed. "Remember when he was ten, and nothing got him excited?"

Mrs. Grayson smiled. "It's a good thing he became a Trainer later, then."

Jeff tramped down the stairs, grabbing his backpack as he passed it. Mr. Gruff trotted behind his heels, barking happily. "Bye Mom, bye Dad! See you later!" he shouted, slamming the front door behind him.

Outside at the bus stop, Craig was waiting. "Hey, Jeff! How's things?"

"Today's the last day of school and the day we get our licences. I feel GREAT!" The two boys high-fived, all maturity gone in the spirit of the moment. At that moment, for the sake of deleting mindless filler, the bus arrived.

"Wow, I was cutting it close, wasn't I?" said Jeff.

"Yeah, you wouldn't want to be late on your last day!" Craig smirked as he got on the bus.

"Why are you smirking?"

"I have no idea..."

...

Later, that day at school...

"BLARG this is boring as hell!" mumbled Jeff as he sat through his (last) math class with Ms. Vite, who, at the moment, was discussing the Pythagorean Theorem. Something to do with triangles or something like that. Jeff wasn't fully listening, and neither was Craig.

Luckily the bell rang, protecting their innocent young minds from any more assault. Their next class was Pokémon Speech Lessons, which Craig was failing rather miserably, but Jeff found to his surprise he was doing quite well.

Pokémon Speech Lessons was a class in which the students learned how to understand their pokémon through the various grunts, roars, squeaks, and other assorted noises they made. In the past five years, numerous breakthroughs had been made on translating pokémon speech, so much so that it was now taught in schools across the globe. It was quite difficult, what with there being so many different meanings for one word, depending on volume, pitch, length of the word, etc. One 'Charmander!' had been know to mean anything from 'I'm hungry' to 'OMFG THERE'S A GIANT RABID GROWLITHE BEHIND YOU!' which actually happened once. It was an occasion many students would rather forget.

Today was the test for all graduating students. They would talk to a pokémon, while the teacher (who was an expert at talking to pokémon) recorded everything that was said and see how well the student responded to the pokémon's questions, then they would do a written test.

"Alright, class!" said the teacher, Mr. Kirby. "Today, at least for four of you, it is your final exam. For you four, I would like you to sit at the four desks in front of me here, and talk to the pokémon sitting on each desk." Mr. Kirby gestured to the four desks sitting in front of his own. Pokémon sat on each desk. "Please, take any seat you like. The rest of you, find something quiet to do."

"I call the one with the Vulpix!" cried Selena Forsey, shooting to the front and dropping herself down in front of the Vulpix. "So, Vulpix, what's new?"

"I'm taking the Bellsprout!" shouted Harry Simpson, sitting in front of the little pitcher plant pokémon. "Read any good books lately?"

Craig chose the seat with the Baltoy, leaving Jeff with the Swinub. Jeff shifted in his chair to get more comfortable, then asked, "So how are you?"

"Sssswi...nub nub," said the little icy piglet. Jeff mentally called on his notes to try and translate that, and to the best translation he could get, it meant, "I'm okay. How are you?"

"Uh, I'm fine," he said. "Um, heard any good Swinub gossip lately, or something?" He sighed. "Okay, we're supposed to make small talk, but conversation isn't my strong suit."

"It's not mine either," said the Swinub, or, more literally, it said, "Nub, swinub swine swine."

"Then, uh, do you have something you'd rather talk about?"

The Swinub launched into a flurry of grunts, squeaks, and other sounds. Jeff struggled to keep up, but for the most part, he understood quite well. The Swinub was talking about how it didn't want to get up this morning, to which Jeff responded, "Yeah, I've had mornings like that too. Like, when the bed is so comfy, but you know you have to get up anyway. I hate that." So then they started talking about winter, in which this memory of Jeff's took place, but the Swinub said that winter was its favourite season. Jeff shook his head and shivered at the memory of winter. "I don't like it. Too cold for my tastes. Brr."

...

Ten minutes later, the talk was finished and all the graduates were standing in front of Mr. Kirby, who had four sheets of paper in his hand. He handed them out to the students. "Now for the writing section of your test."

Jeff groaned. He hated 'summarizing the blah blah blah' or 'translating the yadda yadda', and mind-numbing things like that. He couldn't wait for it to be over. Luckily, I'm the writer, so what is about forty minutes for the characters is only a few clicks on the keyboard for me.

So, forty minutes later, the tests were finished, handed in, marked, and handed back. As Jeff and Craig reviewed their tests, Jeff whispered to Craig, "89 per cent on the Oral task. What did you get?"

Craig silently showed him his Oral rubric paper. The mark at the top said, '57%'.

Jeff frowned. "Too bad."

Craig shrugged. "Luckily my writing made up for it, and I got a 62 per cent average! Pass!" The two friends high-fived. "How about you?"

"My average is 93." Jeff smiled smugly. "Ha ha ha."

Craig scowled half-heartedly, then put his papers back in his bag. "Come on, our next class is starting." The two boys jogged off down the hallway, thinking of the imminent graduation ceremony, and, more specifically, their Trainer Cards waiting for them.