-[Ironfield village, Northern Continent]-
In the corner of a tavern, there sat a boy clothed in a slightly torn, brown cloak quietly sipping on a glass of water. Troya had black hair and blue eyes and looked like a typical low-class villager. He often came to the tavern to listen to the different tales the storytellers had to tell. Most of his knowledge of the outside world came from listening to these storytellers, as he was not allowed to leave the village.
There was a crowd gathered around today's storyteller. He was an old man with a long white beard, one that he kept stroking while he prepared to begin his story. It was silent, and the people waited with patience. The tavern keeper began serving out mugs of beer, grateful for the business this storyteller brought him. Even the Pokemon kept silent, though not all of them understood why their trainers required them to do so.
"I've decided," began the storyteller. "Today's story, it will be one that my late father had told me when I was a child. He said it was told to him by a very strong man, one who wasn't from this village. He had come to the village and required a place to stay, so my father had invited him to his house. As the man was an outsider, my father didn't ask for money, nor for treasures, but for stories. He wanted to hear the stories of the outside world that he could not witness for himself."
The people nodded with understanding. It wasn't only Troya or the old man's father who weren't able to leave; everyone here was not able to leave this wretched village.
The storyteller continued, "My father said that this story was a story about the origins of our continent. About 900 years ago, the Northern Continent used to be smaller than it is now, and the Southern Continent was nearly ten times the size of its current size. It was a period of war."
He raised his voice, "Corpses of men and Pokemon could be seen at every corner. The flowers were dark red, watered by the blood of both men and Pokemon. The war had begun when it was discovered that the Royal Family of the Southern Continent was plotting something. Something so evil, so dangerous, so daring that it even involved the Celestial Pokemon."
At the mention of the Celestial beings, the people got excited. The all-powerful Celestial Pokemon, said to govern the laws of the Earth. A plot involving even them? It looks like they were in for a good story today.
"Luckily," said the storyteller, "they were found out. They were sold out by one of their own. A man had escaped from the Southern Continent and told the Northern Continent of this plan. The news spread far and wide and every family was informed of the disaster the Southern Continent was planning."
"War was declared. Men and Pokemon were armed, preparing for battle. Families from both the Northern and Southern both joined to oppose this force, fearing what may follow if they were to allow that faction of the Southern Continent to succeed."
"And so, a war was fought! Millions died. Even the bravest and strongest soldiers fell during battle. It was a catastrophe."
The storyteller waved his hands exaggeratedly, "Small, insignificant people like you and me had it the worst! Food shortages and droughts, along with massacres of people by both groups as a message of warning sent by one army to another, these were all everyday occurrences. They cared not for the commoners, and we were powerless against them."
The fists of the listeners were tightly clenched. Frustration. What could they do after all? They were all weak - no one would even spare them a glance. They were just like ants trying to survive in a battle between two dragons.
The storyteller waited for some time to let the people calm themselves and took a drink from his mug before continuing.
"The war went on for another 65 years, the worst 65 years the Earth had ever seen upon its creation. However, it was on the 51st year where things had begun to change, and for the first time, we commoners had played a huge role in shaping history." When the storyteller said this, a hint of pride could be seen in his eyes.
The listeners, however, were confused. Commoners like them - what sort of power could they possess? The little amount of power they had was too weak to do anything, so how could they have helped shape history?
The storyteller smiled, knowing what they were thinking. He then stood up and with the loudest voice he could muster, he continued, "The people were tired of living their lives on ropes without a clue if their rope would be the next to snap. And thus, they decided that they would do whatever they could to end this war faster, for the sake of future generations. Just providing resources wasn't enough. That wouldn't help the war end any faster. Though the people of the south had not yet completed their plan, they had readied many powerful items and trained Pokemon stronger than even those used by armies in preparation for their plan. This gave them an edge in the war. So, what could be done?"
The storyteller paused again taking another drink from his mug, seemingly signalling something. The people in the tavern understood, and people placed their coins into a pot in front of the storyteller. Satisfied, the storyteller resumed speaking.
"They were the weakest," repeated the storyteller, "but as the saying goes, many droplets make an ocean. The advantage that the Northerners had was not their strength but their numbers after families joined together, and who could be more in number than the commoners?"
"Our forefathers bravely stood on the battlefield knowing very well that winning the war could easily cost them their lives, but they were willing to do anything to bring the war to an end, so they lent the Northerners their help. As a result, though at the cost of many, many lives, by building on their advantage the new alliance was able to swarm and destroy the Southerners completely! In no more than 15 years, the war that lasted so long had ended, and commoners - nobodies like us - had managed to play a huge part in it!"
The storyteller excitedly claimed, "Our forefathers weren't pitiful people like us! They were courageous, willing to stand against the stronger for their ideals. They fought for what they wanted instead of deciding to wait and simply hope for things to take a turn for the better."
One of the listeners got excited. "If they could fight for themselves in that big war, why can't we do the same? Why should we remain trapped in this village? Everyone here today, let's make a plan. Let's try to fight together to leave this village, overpower the governor and then all go our own ways!"
Other people also got excited and began joining in, but one person behind the crowd silently stood up, and it was at this moment Troya understood that he had to leave now. He broke open the window, jumped out, and ran towards an abandoned cottage.
He recognized the man as one of the soldiers of the town serving the Imperials. In this town, anyone who spoke against the imperials was treated as a traitor and would be killed, on the spot or during a public execution. Troya knew that everyone in that room -those who hadn't even said a word too - would die tonight, and Troya had no intention of joining them.
...
Troya arrived at a seemingly abandoned wooden cottage with most of its wood beginning to rot. Inside, there sat a pale girl with raven black hair sleeping beside an orange colored pokemon who had lightning-shaped ears and a tail with similar shape. She looked one or two years younger than Troya who at the time was 16 years old, or so he believed.
"Lily, I'm back," said Troya.
Looking at the girl who just woke up, Troya asked, "Did you rest well?"
"Mm," replied the girl while rubbing her eyes and waking up the pokemon.
"Rai...chu?" The pokemon got up and stretched.
"I'm awake. Are we leaving?" asked the girl.
Troya paused. He walked back out of the cottage and looked around. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound coming from the direction of the tavern. People were screaming and crying at the top of their lungs, but of course none would dare help them.
He sighed and thought to himself, "It feels bad to use this as a distraction, but there will be no better opportunities."
"Yes. We're leaving now."