Castle of Shadows

-.-.-

Part 1: Ideals

-.-.-

Chapter 1: In the Little Town of Nuvema

-.-.-

It all began in a castle. A castle of shadows. No light would ever see its way through the thick coating of darkness that glazed its outline and guarded it from anything that may try to enter. The sun could do nothing but shine pitifully above the layer of dirt covering it, trying helplessly to blast its light through the blackness, but to no avail. The surroundings were too dark, and managed to easily absorb it, taking light hostage within its ghostly clutches. Anyone looking on, if they ever managed to get near the castle, wouldn't see anything but piles upon piles of shadowy substance, so thick that it almost seemed solid. Despite this, the castle was very cleverly hidden by its creators, buried so far in the middle of nowhere that very few people would even think about going far enough to find it.

For centuries, it had been of little use, just sitting underneath a thick pile of earth with nothing really going on there. It didn't really want to be uncovered – or should I say, the creators didn't want it to be uncovered. Too much had happened there, and since disaster had struck, the tower had been sent to ruin and shoved underground, never to be seen again. That is, until it was dug up. Or rather, dug into.

The uselessness was just what the man – an advisor – needed for his schemes. He needed somewhere to hide his insanity, useful for cloaking himself in a layer of innocence. Underneath that coat of deceiving, there was but a merciless soul that couldn't really contain itself if left alone. When around other people, it was simple, though he did struggle to keep it within him. The anger came from one simple reason; he, himself, was not king. He wasn't even a descendent of any sort of royalty. Instead, many years ago, a fine maiden had birthed a royal being into existence, and somehow, that baby had ended up in his own filthy hands.

That child was now standing behind him. Though very much a teenager, this boy was basically a child. He wasn't merciless enough to control the endless lines of sheep-like knights that now marched inside the very castle. Yes, royalty himself wasn't able to command his own troops in the castle that fate would have him end up in. That, however, was where the man came in. See, he did all the dirty work for the king, so much that he thought that he may as well have been the rightful king. But, so be it, he was not, and he would have to throw credit back at the worthy king for the time being.

Even so, he had a decent herd of troops at his hands. At every second, no matter how physically far away they were, he could almost always reach his long, bony fingers out and touch their delicate frames. They were the very definition of "strength in numbers", but those tiny details really didn't matter to their commander.

At the moment, those troops were waiting for something very special. Something that could either happen within a few minutes or a few days. As they paced nervously in their designated lines, never daring to step out even a footstep, their thoughts lay on nothing but the routine they would carry through during the coronation that was inevitably coming. Their fingers twisted out and around themselves in slick motions, never getting caught together, but instead intertwining in a nervous manner. Not one person stood out among the rest; really, with their grey capes and stumbling forms, they could have been mistaken for bed sheets. Instead, they all took the form of knights, though none of them were too subtle about their general appearance.

On the walls of the castle, where all of the knights marched, were large banners sporting the letter "P" in some sort of fancy font that looked like it had taken far too long to make. In-between each banner, large stain-glass windows hung, though they didn't really let anything in. Their colours were dark, having no light to take in, yet they all had some sort of mysterious aura to them, like a dark light circled the glass. The largest, sitting at the back of a large platform stage, took the swirling form of two dragons, circling around each other and taking the form of Yin and Yang.

Despite the creepy surroundings, the knights continued to pace the old floorboards. They'd gotten used to everything around them. The surroundings, the people, the leaders. They were all common things to them that ordinary people would find terrifying. Still, they did find their authorities a little scary, though the feelings of fear had become such a common thing that they weren't so odd anymore. Instead, fear was mixed with general, everyday feelings until it was barely noticeable.

They spent most of their days pacing, waiting for the moment when they could stop. They knew the event in which they would finally be put to use. They had known since they'd entered the clutches of the castle, but they didn't know when exactly that event could happen. It could have been minutes from then, or hours, or perhaps even months. But until then, they would continue to pace in their lines, step-by-step, each one making them more and more tired.

One tired knight, wearier than the rest, took a moment to look up at the large grandfather clock in the corner of the room. The old object went largely unused, mainly kept there because it was part of the original building, though someone would occasionally glance over to check the time, only to forget what they saw a mere few seconds later. Anything they looked at, really, completely slipped off of their mind and hit the ground, only to be kicked around by pacing feet. They all had extremely short attention spans, not really picking up anything unless it was screamed in their ears. That was how their leader generally got across to these brainless sheep.

This time, the face of the clock stuck in his brain for more than a few seconds. 11:59, it read, telling him that it was merely a minute until midnight. Perhaps, when the clock strikes twelve, he should go and get some sleep. Even so, he dreaded the hour that he was waiting for, and if it came while he was asleep, that would not be good news for him. So, he instead waited, waited for the minute to pass and signal the chime for yet another day in his so far useless life.

However, when the clock struck twelve and low chimes echoed around the room, the doors in front of the hall banged open, and two figures stepped out. Those figures were the most feared figures amongst the castle, and as soon as they entered, all eyes turned to them, and everyone dropped to their knees in a respectful bow, trying not to show their nervousness. The taller figure at the front, armoured with a long, fancy robe and a blood red monocle, looked around them, a satisfying smile creeping up onto his pale white lips; the advisor.

Slowly, he raised a hand and gave a small wave, before turning behind him and also bowing. This shocked the knights, but they didn't show their true feelings at all. They knew why he was bowing, and that reason terrified them above anything else. Just before the robed man, a face rarely seen among them was entering, but they knew all too well who it was. And his entrance could only mean one thing;

It was time for the coronation.

-.-.-

Miles upon miles from the castle, there was a small house in the middle of nowhere. This house sat in a tiny town called Nuvema town, and it wasn't that hard to figure out whose house was whose. There were only three houses in total, plus a Pokémon lab. Like the dark castle, it was midnight where the house sat, though this time, the silver light of the moon could provide a flurry of miraculous silver lining and make the place all that much better to live in. The town was generally quiet, with only the occasional scuttle of a Patrat in the forest surroundings to break through the silence.

However, if one was to listen closely enough, they would be able to hear the soft flips of the pages of a book. This sound was coming from the house mentioned previously, though the girl doing the page turning was trying to avoid being heard. If one had a keen eye, they could see the flickering flame of a candle shining out through the bedroom window where the girl sat, cross-legged, on her bed. Her eyes were squinted, her mind; almost torn trying to unscramble the blurry letters in the dark as she tried to read. Her hands shook as she turned past each page, her eyes getting more and more tired with each word read.

She wished she could turn on a light, or at least creep downstairs and bring a torch up with her, but if her mother heard that she was still awake, then she would be in big trouble. So, instead, she only had the light of her feeble little candle, the flame of which was slowly failing, dying to smoke. Not that it provided much light anyway, and she had to sit right up against the candle itself in order to even get a limited look at the pages she was reading. She wasn't really paying too much attention anymore, and her eyelids were threatening to shut on her any second. The fire definitely reflected in her eyes, though as it faded, so did her energy.

The only thing keeping her awake at that time was a rather good reason, she thought. After that reason ticked over to reveal a new day, she would be able to rest peacefully. She was waiting for an entirely new day. Not daylight, of course, she'd probably go insane with tiredness if she waited that long. No, all she needed was for the clock on her bedside table to read 12:00. Then she could lie down and sleep silently knowing that it was finally her fifteenth birthday.

Forcing an extremely heavy lot of breath out of her nose, she continued flicking her eyes over the book, though it had gotten to the point where she was barely looking at the pictures anymore, let alone actually reading. In the dash of her eyes, she flicked her gaze over to the bright red numbers of her digital clock. After completely ignoring what it said, she averted her eyes back to the book, not paying attention to that at all, either. However, after a mere few seconds, her squinted eyes widened and she turned – with her whole body this time, completely disregarding the book to look at the clock.

When she saw the time – 11:59 – she felt her lips widen and creep up into a wide grin. One minute to go. One dragging, horrible minute. That minute felt like a marathon to her as she mentally fought with her eyes to stay awake. If she wasn't so tired, her heart would have probably been pounding out of her chest at that moment. Instead, it continued its soft thudding, sending ripples through the chilled air in the stillness of the night. The clock could tick over at any second, and then she would finally be able to rest, something she'd become more excited about than her birthday.

As she thought that, her exhausted mindset fumbled around with other things in her head. Why was she so excited? It was just another day, after all. Of course, it would be a day where she was officially one year older than she used to be, then she could stop telling people she was fourteen when they asked her age. Even so, that wasn't something that big.

Maybe it was because she would be able to eat cake? Or have presents from her friends and family? Probably not that, either. Her mother made cake all the time when she was merely searching for something to do with her time, and the girl hadn't really asked for any good gifts this year.

Or maybe it was because of the fact that, once the clock ticked over, she would finally be able to get her starter Pokémon from Professor Juniper and start her Pokémon journey.

Yeah, definitely that.

For the most part, since she'd moved to the Unova Region, the girl had spent most of her time cooped up in Nuvema Town, unable to leave without a responsible adult or Pokémon to guide her. Sure, her and her two best friends had snuck into the forest on numerous occasions, usually led by her and her independent mindset, but that had become less and less appealing over the years, especially when the thoughts of actually travelling became more and more apparent.

Through all of this thinking, the girl had nearly forgotten that her bed side clock existed at all, and when it ticked over to read 12:00, she nearly fell off of her bed in realising what it meant.

To her, that number meant that a massive weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. That meant she was finally free. Well, almost; she still had to wait to get her Pokémon. Either way, she was at least in the same day she would receive her ticket to freedom, and not just the same month or week. That number meant that in ten short hours, she'd be just about to leave on her journey, pokéballs and supplies in hand.

Knowing this, she felt much more relieved, though part of that feeling was probably just knowing she could now go to sleep feeling satisfied. Sighing, she closed her eyes and lay back on her bed, an orange glow from behind her eyelids where the candle still sat a few inches from her face. Rolling over to face it, she placed her hands under her cheek and gave a soft blow, all whilst burying herself in her blankets.

Suddenly, there was nothing but darkness with a thin sliver of silver moonlight in her bedroom. She yawned and turned back over, taking one last look around her room before darkness took over her for a long, blissful slumber.

"Happy birthday, White…" she whispered.

-.-.-

The advisor didn't need to call for silence among the knights. He'd certainly expected to have to; surely, there would be at least one group of three or four that would be muttering among themselves nervously. For they were always nervous, he knew, and he'd gotten used to having to bellow out warnings or threats if they did not shut up. This time, though, he was within a new presence. It wasn't just him anymore. No, he was with the king. Well, the would-be king.

Said king walked behind him, dressed in long white robes that completely enveloped his body, never showing any skin. The only exposed flesh was on his face, though even part of that - his forehead - was covered in part of his thick, shaggy green mane. He walked proud, tall, like he was already a leader. Oh, how far away from that he was. Though the older man who now walked in front of the to-be king liked to consider himself as the advisor when named out loud, he saw himself as a much higher figure in his own eyes.

The advisor felt his lip turn up a little, partially in disgust for the boy who pranced behind him, and partially in annoyance for his own desires. He was powerful, therefore he should have been able to lead the army of knights himself. Instead, he needed help for it. Well, perhaps it wasn't quite that simple.

But the knights' heads were bowed too low to notice any of the advisor's facial expressions. They only stared at the ground, their eyelids half closed as they tried to handle the cramps that were beginning to form in their necks. Some of them were shaking, aching legs quivering back and forth as they struggled to stay in the awkward kneeling position. They didn't watch the king, the advisor, or the six men following behind them, each one in a different coloured robe than the ones around them. As they walked, their robes only just lifted off of the pristine-clean floor, they carried the to-be king's train, their hands pleasured by the silky white material that rubbed against their fingertips. It was probably the richest material they would ever touch, and not one of them knew exactly what it was.

The advisor did; silk, simply, though not quite that simple at all. He'd made sure it was made by the finest bug-Pokémon there were. But perhaps those details were insignificant. Instead, he turned his reluctantly-racing mind back to the path ahead. The unfortunate knights that had been wandering around the hall had cleared a thin passageway for the group of higher-ups to make their way to the stage at the very foot of the hall. The stage itself seemed tiny compared to the massive, usually empty surroundings, though what did help was the magnificent stain-glass that proudly stood behind it.

As the group reached the front, two girls emerged from the masses, previously undiscovered at the sidelines. The young king looked up at them, taking a quick glance, so quick it was almost like he was blinking. They didn't notice at all, for they weren't looking at him. Instead, they were focussing on bowing formally, hands entwined in their laps, at the advisor. The two were the true pictures of beauty, each one the exact same height, with the same flawless faces. One of them was clad in yellow, with striking blond hair that flowed perfectly down her back. The other had bubblegum-pink hair, and she looked slightly more nervous than the other. Either one could be compared to goddesses with their beauty.

As the young king approached them, they turned around to him, eyes slightly closed, and though they could not see, they could feel his marvellous presence. He gave them a small, nervous grin as they stepped forward and held out their hands. He took them, suddenly feeling a little more content with his situation. Though he hadn't lost his balance at all, the two girls helped him up the stairs in a most graceful manner, hands delicately touching his skin.

The atmosphere around his own fingers felt almost empty as they dragged their own off of him, and he took his own stance at the top of the stage, standing tall next to the advisor. The older man, who now seemed a little less irritated, much to everyone's relief, raised his hand and gestured for the knights to stand up. They all obeyed, trying to hide their hesitation behind confident faces as they all stood in sync.

The young king gulped, looking around at all of the people that he would soon be leading. There were certainly a lot of them, and now that they were all standing in front of him, it was almost intimidating. The fact that some of them were biting their lips or tapping their index fingers together made him a little more confident, knowing that they were all just as nervous as he was, if not more.

However, as the advisor gave his speech, bellowing out to his subjects, the young king knew that it was time for a change. An ideal change. And nothing was going to stop him.

-.-.-

There's not much more to say about royalty. For now, anyway. But it's now that our story truly began.

It began as White's eyes opened on the day of her fifteenth birthday.

Apparently, at that hour of the morning, her eyes weren't ready at all for the flood of light that wrenched her pupils wider. That hour of the morning was exactly eight o'clock, and, though not that early at all, White had never been an early riser. Early for her didn't end until at least nine o'clock, though considering she'd had such a late night the previous night, that limit would have probably been extended to at least ten o'clock.

She awoke with a feeling of confusion, having fallen asleep with the tiny light of a smouldering candle, woken up with the giant light of the sun flooding through her window. Her eyes ached as she fought a war with her eyelids, trying to force them open as they screamed for mercy. In the end, they had won, and she groaned and rolled over to face the wall, submitting to her body's tiredness.

The clock turned to display 8:01.

That was when she remembered exactly why she'd gone to bed so late. As she turned, her still fluttering eyes took a single, split-second glance at the calendar above her bed and, a second later, she sat up like something had hit her in the head. Sitting up so fast was more of a reflex action than anything, and she was a little dazed when she finally regained control of her own body, suddenly feeling lost even in such a small room. She suddenly thought she was aware of the whole world spinning, and it was threatening to knock her down at any moment.

After a few more seconds, mostly taken up by White trying to steady her wobbling head, she finally swung her legs over the bed and stretched her arms up, yawning. She saw her scrunched up face in the mirror across from the bed, and laughed lightly at the sight. "Wow, that's attractive," she said to herself, suddenly feeling a lot happier about her situation. As she bounded off of the bed, she turned to her window and tugged the curtains wide open, sticking her head through the window frame and taking a large breath of fresh air. Perfect day, in her opinion; breeze light and cool, intense and warm. It was perfectly pleasant. Good day to start a journey.

The curtains fluttered beside her head, leaving soft streams of blurry, pale yellow in the corners of her eyes. Her excitement growing, she turned back around and bounded off of her bed, landing with a soft thud on the ground before skipping over to her mirror. As she pulled her mass of curly, dark brown hair into a high ponytail, the usual style, she realised how much her hands were shaking. Out of anticipation, of course, knowing that there were plenty of things waiting for her downstairs. Well, probably not too much, but it wasn't like she needed much. Besides, she'd get a Pokémon before too long, and that's all she really wanted on such a day.

Around five minutes later, with her hair in a messy ponytail and a pink and white cap pulled onto her head, she ran downstairs, skipping every second step and almost tripping over on the last. Skidding around the corner, she rushed into the living room and leaped onto the couch. Her mother, who was busy making pancakes in the kitchen, gave White a look like she'd just teleported in front of her.

"Morning," she said, an almost tired tone to her voice. She turned back to the stove, not bothering to watch her daughter rubbing at the toe she'd stubbed multiple times on the way down. "Oh, yeah, happy birthday."

White's eyelids drooped and she gave her mother an unimpressed look. "Thanks," she drawled, "Allison."

This time, it was her mother's time to give the unimpressed look. "Oh, don't get like that." She shook her head, knowing that White only called her by her first name when she got irritated. "I'm making pancakes with pecha berries. Cheren, Bianca and I could eat them all by ourselves, though, if you want us to."

White's eyes perked up once more, and she waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Don't worry, I'll be good." She then chuckled, shaking her head. "Actually, it'll be you and Cheren. Bianca'll be late, I guarantee it."

At that point, there was a knock at the door. White's heart leaped at the sudden sound. She turned towards the front of the house where, through the blurry window in the door, a silhouette of a person could be seen. She stood up, turning her head towards her mother as she walked. "I'll get it!" she called, but the obvious call was unnecessary. "And if this is Bianca, I'll eat my hat."

Luckily, for her sake, the open door revealed the black-haired, nerdy form of Cheren, carrying a present. Through his glasses, his eyes were slightly lopsided, one eyebrow raised with his mouth planted on a smug smirk. Barely even looking at White, he walked over the threshold and placed a rectangular-shaped box wrapped in silver wrapping paper on the coffee table. He then turned to her as he shut the door and eyed him quizzically.

"I heard your little remark," he began, still smirking, "and I was tempted to leave and go and get Bianca. Get her to walk in before me." He placed his index finger on the brim of White's hat. "It'd be interesting to see how you manage to eat this. Luckily for you I'm not that mean."

White stared at him, speechless, with her mouth slightly agape.

Seeing her expression, Cheren shook his head and smiled. "Happy birthday, White." He placed a hand on her shoulder, patting her a few times like a proud father would pat his son. Even so, White didn't look happy with the results.

Now grinning mischievously, she spread her arms out and smiled hopefully. "So, do I get a hug?"

Cheren's facial reaction was hilarious. To White, anyway. He certainly wasn't one to hug. Neither was she, really, but a hug from Cheren was always an achievement. To her surprise, he spread his arms and gestured for her to hug him.

White, though taken aback, leaped into her friend's arms and hugged him a little too tightly. She could almost feel Cheren's gritted teeth from the way his chin touched her shoulder.

When she stepped back, Cheren brushed off of his shoulders and shook his arms around. "Germs," he muttered. "So many germs. Transferred by the contact."

White reached a hand out and stole his glasses. "Oh, you." She tapped the glass with the fingernail of her index finger. "You're so boring. You were never this nerdy when you were a kid." She winked, placing the glasses back on his nose so they sat there crookedly. "Have some fun for once."

At that point, without mercy, the door banged open. Both White and Cheren whorled around to face it, mentally questioning what the heck had just happened. Of course, it was only an overexcited Bianca, blond hair flying haywire behind her and green, puffy hat only just propped on her head enough to stay there. Like White's were previously, her arms were spread, though it wasn't Cheren who she was charging for.

"Ohmigosh!" she squealed, literally diving onto White and knocking them both to the ground. "Happy happy happy birthday!"

"Help. Me," was all White could manage to choke through the limited supply of oxygen.

Cheren was no help at all. As payback for the previous, much unwanted hug encounter, he was watching from the sidelines like a spectator at a sports game. Behind the kitchen counter, Allison took pretty much the same stance, chuckling under her breath. White was seeing this all out of the corner of her eyes, mentally cursing at them in her oxygen deprived brain.

"Need. Air."

When Bianca finally heard her cough, her previously happy place turned alarmed and she quickly jumped to her feet. "I'm sorry! I was just excited!"

White tapped her chest with the palm of her hand before sitting up cross-legged. "'Tis fine," she croaked, voice hoarse. "Thanks, but try not to kill me next time."

Bianca's cheeks turned slightly pink. "Sorry…"

-.-.-

After breakfast and present-opening (a sapphire necklace from Bianca, a book on Pokémon from Cheren, a small bag of pokéballs from Allison and a pair of socks from a friend of Allison's in Nimbasa City) White and her two friends turned their attention to the big package in the centre of the table. On the front of the package, wrapped in white and red, was a note attached to the front.

Children of Nuvema-

It's finally the time! Inside this box is three pokéballs, each one containing a Pokémon. The fire-type, the water-type, and the grass-type. Choose wisely, but don't argue. Whoever you get, I'm sure they'll make a great partner,

-Professor Juniper

P.S. Happy birthday, White!

White smiled at the professor's attitude. She'd always been jumpy, maybe even slightly impatient, but a good person all the same. She folded up the note and tossed it carelessly to the side, ignoring her mother's scowl from across the room. She'd want the note to be kept, symbolising the first day of White's journey. Really, White thought that the Pokémon would be the thing to symbolise the start of her journey.

As Allison stepped up and took the note from the table, White, Cheren and Bianca's eyes were all planted hungrily on the package. White turned to the other two, a questioning look on her face. "So, do we open it? Right now?"

Cheren shrugged. "I think so."

Without further hesitation, White gripped the ribbon between her index finger and thumb and pulled the knot away from the gift, before throwing it to the side, ignoring another scowl from her mother. When she'd done so, Bianca reached forward, grabby hands lashing the lid off of the box and instantly pulling out the pokéballs.

"How do we know what's inside?" she asked, excitement filling her high-pitched voice.

"I guess we let them out," said Cheren, adjusting his glasses to observe the pokéballs.

That seemed to be the answer Bianca had been wanting to hear. Letting out an eager "Whee!" sound, she carelessly hurled all three pokéballs into the air. The room filled with red light that had just spilled out of the capsules, and White held a hand up to her face to guard her eyes, only just seeing the light morph and change into three solid objects.

"Sni."

"Osha!"

"Tep."

The first one she saw wasn't particularly looking at anyone. Instead, it seemed to be avoiding looking at anyone. It stared at the wall on the far side of the room, crossing its vine-like arms over its chest and holding its serpentine nose into the air.

Both White and Bianca turned to Cheren, eyeing him curiously and waiting for him to explain. He let out a small sigh and, like the green, snake-like Pokémon, crossed his arms to his chest.

"Snivy," he explained. "It's a grass-type." He pushed his glasses further up his nose as he turned to the second Pokémon, a blue otter-like creature with a shell attached to its chest. "Oshawott, a water-type."

The Oshawott tapped its chest. "Osha!" it cried proudly, placing its paws on its hips and standing as tall as it could. Unfortunately, this led to it falling over backwards.

Cheren rolled his eyes, before turning to the orange and red, pig-like Pokémon on the far right. "And that one's Tepig, a fire-type."

White nodded, her anticipation growing as she stared at the three. Snivy didn't seem at all happy with the situation it was in, and was turned away from everyone, eyes half-lidded and nose turned to the air. It was funny to watch its proud stance compared to the comical Oshawott, who was still rolling around on its back, trying to stand up after its inappropriately-timed fall. Tepig was staring at the two, looking extremely awkward with the situation as it pondered on whether it should help or not.

"So… Who do we pick?" asked Bianca nervously, her eyesight flicking back and forth between the three Pokémon. "I mean, I don't know who to pick. I don't want to take anyone's preference, though."

White shrugged. "I don't really have a preference."

Cheren shook his head. "Neither. They all have their weaknesses and are pretty much equal in strength at the moment."

"How about we do it this way?"

Allison stepped in-between the humans and the Pokémon, the three pokéballs held in her hands. Without anyone's consent, she turned to face the three Pokémon and returned them to their pokéballs. "I'll go up-stairs, shuffle the pokéballs, then you three can choose randomly. Sound fair?"

The three eyed each other, as if mentally asking for confirmation, before White turned back to her mother and nodded firmly.

"Sounds fair."

Allison nodded proudly. "Good. Be back in a mo'!"

As her mother padded up the stairs with a mischievous look on her face, White turned to her two friends and crossed her arms, knowing that the wait would be the most painful wait of her life. The silence between everything was unbearable, and the only thing she could do to avoid it was to think up scenarios with each Pokémon in her head. The ones with Snivy didn't really go down well. He seemed extremely disobedient, and though she wouldn't mind who she got, a tiny voice in her head was praying that it wouldn't be Snivy. Oshawott was a little better, fighting with the shell on her stomach to fend off other Pokémon, though half-way through the fight she would occasionally fall down out of sheer clumsiness. Tepig seemed the most obedient of the three, though, in her head, he was a little out-there and feisty. He was a fire-type, after all.

To her relief, if didn't take Allison long to come back down the stairs, holding the box of pokéballs in hand. "So, who wants to pick first?" the mother enquired, setting the box down on the table.

To White's surprise, both Cheren and Bianca pushed her forward. She turned back to them hesitantly, a little flustered that they were letting her pick first.

"Well, it is your birthday," Cheren said simply, one hand in the pocket of his jeans.

White turned back to the box, deciding not to fight with them. This was it; the next pokéball she touched would contain the Pokémon to be her partner for her journey. She scanned them over once more, praying that she would make the right choice. Well, it wasn't really a choice, but still. Her hand hovered over the middle one, thinking that that would be best. But, as she was lowering her hand down, just as her fingers were about to enclose around it, she quickly switched to the first one.

The intense stillness of the room was amazing. All eyes were on her, and Allison was grinning down at her. White supposed that she knew who her partner was, since she'd switched the pokéballs around. Despite wanting to know what Pokémon she got, she stepped back, gesturing for Cheren and Bianca to pick their Pokémon.

"We'll open them together," she said, replying to their confused looks. Bianca beamed at her, bounding up to the box and gripping her hand around the second ball. Cheren, the third, and, all at once, they threw them into the air.

The flash of simultaneous red light was back, though now that White was prepared for it, it was a little less shocking. She could only stare at the red light as it morphed in what seemed like slow motion into the solid form of what appeared to be…

"Osha!"

White breathed a hefty sigh of relief, partially glad that Cheren had received Snivy; they seemed like a good match. But Oshawott… By the look in her new Pokémon's eye, something told her that Oshawott would be a good partner. That left Bianca with an excited-looking Tepig.

The little blue otter was looking around confusedly, probably confused as to who her trainer was. However, when White smiled down at her and knelt in front of her, she seemed happy to know who would be her trainer partner.

"Osh!" she cried, leaping onto White's shoulder.

White giggled nervously, scratching Oshawott on the chin. "Huh, that was easy," she muttered. "I thought I'd have to make an effort to bond with you." Oshawott turned her head to the side, but White only laughed again. "Welcome aboard, buddy."

-.-.-

It wasn't too long later that White found herself standing inside Professor Juniper's lab, Cheren and Bianca at her sides and Oshawott perched happily on her shoulder. It was an image she never even thought to imagine, but now that it was happening, it seemed like a dream. This time tomorrow, she'd be in a new town, so close yet so far away from the only place she'd ever known clearly. It was both sad and exciting, and it was hard to figure out which of those feelings overpowered the other.

"Now, I'm sure you all know why I called you all here." Professor Juniper whorled around, arms spread and an excited beam on her face. As she turned, a few strands of her messy bun and the bottom of her lab-coat fluttered out around her gracefully, though the human herself wasn't that graceful as she made a grab for the book she'd absentmindedly knocked off the shelf.

She let out a small cough. "Um, yes, answer to my statement?"

"It's for the Pokédex, right?"

Of course it was Cheren to answer, in all his ridiculously nerdy knowledge. White couldn't help but mutter, "Smartass," under her breath, though luckily no one heard but Bianca, who looked like she had to hold herself back from bursting out laughing.

"Correct!" Juniper's grin got even wider. "Precisely! Now, a Pokédex is a high-tech device that records information on the Pokémon you encounter. The Pokémon around here, well, we have record of, but…" She spread her arms out wide. "There are many different places I have yet to go, and that's where you three come in. I want you all to go out and find new and rare Pokémon that I haven't had a chance to see yet!"

"So, that will include going places really far away, right?"

White looked over at Bianca, whose face had turned slightly pail in asking the question. She seemed nervous, though it was understandable. Bianca had always been relatively close with her parents.

"Yes," said Juniper obliviously, not noticing the nervous tone in Bianca's voice at all. White turned her gaze to look at Cheren, who only shrugged and gave her a "We'll talk about it later" look, in which White nodded in response.

"Now," continued Juniper, "if any of you have questions, feel free to ask me. If not…" She grinned and waved. "Bon voyage!"

-.-.-

The three exited the town without much hesitation, though Bianca was still extremely pail. As they walked, Cheren was busy examining his Pokédex when the flighty blond pushed White to the side.

"Bianca-?"

White was cut off by her friend's frantic tone.

"If dad calls you to try to get a hold of me, don't answer," she hissed urgently.

"What-?"

"Just don't, okay." Bianca drew a cross over her heart with her index finger and White, without questioning it, nodded.

"I promise," she whispered. "Cross my heart…"

"And hope to die," finished Bianca, seeming a little more relieved. "Cheren!"

As planned previously, the three stood in front of the boundary between Nuvema Town and Route 1 to take their very first steps together. White stood in the middle, gripping Cheren's and Bianca's hands. The three looked at each other, and even Cheren was smiling eagerly.

"One…" they chanted together. "Two… Three!"

It began with a step.

-.-.-

...

Wowza.

Greetings, one and all, to my new fanfiction!

Okay, maybe it's not so new…

So, some of you may know, some of you may not know, but this is actually a rewrite. Lemme tell you a story. A year ago, thirteen year old me decided to get into fanfiction. Good idea, right? I hoped it was, since I'd shipped ships before I knew what shipping was. Back then, I was pretty crap at writing, but hey, I was an oblivious girl who was in love with Pokémon. It seemed like a good idea.

That was exactly a year ago today. So, fast forward a year and I'm a much better writer, in my opinion, anyway. A few months ago, I decided to go back and read my old works and I couldn't help but think, "Damn, this sucks."

Seriously, why did I have any readers?

Anyway, we won't go into that. I decided to rewrite the first few chapters, but I got to the seventh and I started to realise that there were a whole ton of plot points that I've thought of that I couldn't add because I was too far into the story. So, I asked myself, "Do I want to rewrite it?"

The few of you that gave your opinions in either messages or reviews seemed to be on my side, saying that I should do what I think is right. So, I guess, by reading this, you know what my decision was.

So, I welcome you all to my new fanfiction journey, "Castle of Shadows". I'm Misaki Amaya, and I'll be your writer for the next few dozen chapters. I hope you stick around, because there's plenty more for you to latch onto. So sit back and enjoy the ride!

I have a few little notes for you all. One: I decided to cut out the first trainer battles. You know, the ones you get right after you get your Pokemon? To be honest, writing battles where all the Pokemon know is Tackle is really boring.

Two: In terms of Bianca's father thing, well... We'll get to that later in the story. I wanted to follow the actual game as little as possible for this chapter to make it more interesting.

Three: Fun fact! If White had have picked the middle pokeball instead, she would have gotten Tepig. I was actually torn with who I was going to give her. I gave her Oshawott in the previous version, but I was actually considering switching to Tepig for a bit. But Oshawott just adds too much humour. Either way, Cheren would have gotten Snivy. Because, let's face it, they're perfect.

So yeah, that's all I have to say. Stay tuned for the next chapter!

Oh, yeah, and thanks for reading.