Chapter 1

The smooth surface of the creature's body gleamed in the afternoon sun. Ethan gingerly laid his palm flat on the rock Pokémon's back, feeling its warmth.

"What do you think of Rhyhorn?" the older man asked him. He squinted with one eye closed against the day's intense light, making it look as if he was winking.

"It's a really great looking Pokémon," Ethan admitted.

The rhyhorn considered the fourteen-year-old boy standing above him with a cocktail of curiosity and caution. Ethan was about to pat its slick body again when it faded to an infrared glow and his hand passed through thin air. The watchful beady eyes, the short but powerful horn and the craggy back of the creature all became a kind of tomato soup that was slurped into a waiting Pokéball which rested between the older man's chapped fingers.

"Well, maybe you'll get one yourself, one of these days," he said gruffly.

"Yeah, maybe," Ethan sighed.

"Okay, it was nice talkin' to ya, kid. See ya around."

"Yeah. See you around."

The man continued on his way through the town, where he claimed he was headed for the sea and eventually Cinnabar island.

Ethan tossed a small pebble along the pathway, wishing it could be a Pokéball.

Inside of his laboratory, Professor Oak squinted through one of his larger microscopes. He let out a contented sigh. He was examining plant cells from a fallen Oddish leaf.

"Yes, I see," he muttered to himself. "As expected, the vacuole is similar to that of a Bulbasaur. I wonder if the chlorophyll produces a similar UV absorbance reading…"

Oak scratched his head. His dark eyebrows wriggled their way up to his greying hairline.

"That could be a starting idea for a paper in the International Journal of Pokémon Biology. Now, if only I could only find a cure for that swelling on my leg. That's definitely the last time I put a Nidoran on my lap, tricky poison barb…"

He stood up and rummaged in the pockets of his lab coat until he found the box of cigarettes he was looking for. Just as he managed to flick one out of the pack, he saw the automatic double doors parting. They revealed a figure silhouetted against the sun's keen glare.

"Can I help you?" Oak mumbled over the cigarette wedged between his lips.

"I'm back to check if there are any Pokémon available."

"Oh, it's you, Ethan. I'm sorry, but no new Pokémon have been sent my way," he grumbled.

Ethan moved further into the lab. His face was slightly sunburned, probably due to the fact that the cap he wore was always oriented the wrong way around.

"I'll let you know as soon as I hear any different," Oak reassured him. He frowned and fumbled around his pockets again. Now he couldn't find his lighter. He stopped as if considering for a moment, shrugged, then extracted a Pokéball from a deep pocket at his hip.

"Alright, Charmander," he announced, letting the Pokéball slip from his hand and clatter to the tiled floor. "You know what to do. Stay nice and still for me."

The moment the ball hit the floor, there was an explosion of colour, the same crimson haze that Ethan had seen earlier in the day. He raised his hand and shielded his eyes for a second. When he lowered his forearm, a creature the colour of egg yolk replaced it - a small lizard that stood on its back legs to reach the height of Professor Oak's knees. It looked to be smiling in the kind of open-mouthed way that an exhausted marathon runner does after crossing the finish line. Oak bent down and dipped the end of his cigarette into the flame that danced at the end of the lizard's tail.

"Thanks, Charmander," he said approvingly.

Char, char, the creature seemingly replied, in a voice that Ethan imagined how a trumpet would sound if it was heard from underwater.

"I would consider giving you this Pokémon," Oak stated. "But then who would light my cigarettes?" He gave a yellowish smile.

"Are you absolutely sure you don't know of anyone who's giving away a Pokémon?" Ethan asked.

Oak gave another shrug. "I could maybe ask one of my aides if they know. But they're both currently out of town. One went away for a weekend break to Celadon and the other is attending a conference in the Johto region to assist Professor Elm with a funding proposal. So I won't know for a while."

Ethan found it hard to hide his disappointment.

Oak squinted at him through a cloud of smoke. His hard and lined features melted for an instant.

"Listen," he murmured. "When I was a boy, people said that I was a pretty darn good Pokémon trainer. One of the best, in fact. And at some point, I maybe agreed with them. I was determined to capture every single Pokémon I laid my eyes on. Dozens upon dozens of Pokéballs would sit in my bedroom, rolling around on the carpet, resting on my chair, gathering dust on the shelves. In the end, I felt the burden of having taken so many creatures and not knowing what to do with them all. It eventually felt like I was imprisoning them. Sure, they may have been comfortable inside their Pokéballs, but capturing them for the sake of it, as an idea, became less and less appealing as the days and weeks went on. How can an Arcanine run free and stretch its legs if it is locked away, or a Butterfree fly if it has no room to unfold its wings?"

"So I started to release them, one by one, until I had a small but manageable amount of friends that I could spend the proper amount of time with. They learned from me and I know that I certainly learned a lot from them. You are still so very young, Ethan. When the time is right, a Pokémon will come to you. Get one too soon, like some of the other boys and girls, and you may take it for granted. As you finally get your own Pokémon, you'll appreciate it a whole lot more and treat it with love and kindness. It's about quality, not quantity, Ethan."

"What quantity, though?" Ethan groaned. "I don't even have a single one. Maybe if I went out into the wild, I might be able to spot one."

"It's too dangerous to go out into the wild without a Pokémon!" Oak snapped, crushing his cigarette in a ceramic ashtray. "Please, be patient, my boy. It shouldn't be long. In the meantime, think about how you might plan on raising your Pokémon. I have several helpful guides on the matter that would be suitable for a beginner trainer."

"You do?"

"Yes, and if you give me a minute, I can see about finding some for you."

Ethan absently stared down at his shoelaces.

"Thanks, I guess."

The professor slipped through a door behind him. It didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for. He nodded to himself after a moment's consideration. Then his face popped back inside the door frame, a smile touching his lips that was almost as warm as the Charmander's tail.

"I think these books would be a great introduction for a trainer who wants -"

His sentence dropped off into some unknown abyss, along with his stomach.

Ethan was gone. Along with one of the professor's Pokéballs.