The Makings of a King

A king isn't born, he is made.

The road to greatness isn't easy to hike, even with super powered animals. You need to put in an effort to grow alongside your partners. Being a king is going to be hard if you have certain missing parts. Female S/I Ash Ketchum.

So, I don't own Pokémon and if I did, I would have Ash age and win a real championship.

Let's do this…

"To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter One

"Ms. Fern, you're up in five minutes."

Taking a deep breath, I nodded before exhaling. I could go on stage a thousand times yet I always feel nervous before my performance. Taking another deep breath I squished my cheeks together and mumbled out, "It doesn't matter what other people think, as long as your performance makes you proud."

The butterflies in my stomach refused to stop moving but I still got up and grabbed my violin and bow. For some reason, I felt a sense of foreboding. As though something was telling me not to go on stage.

Shaking my head, my dark curls were thankfully tightly constrained in a bun or else my hair would've been a frizzy mess. I waited for my solo. Heat traveled up my cheeks but thankfully my skin was dark enough to hide the nervous flush.

When I was announced to go on stage I cleared my mind. Striding to the stage, with my white dress swishing against my legs, I was greeted by hundreds of people clapping. I was standing in front of dreamers, listeners, and judges.

It was as if the entire hall held their breath when I positioned my bow to my violin. Taking in one last deep breath, I started.

This was going to be my greatest performance yet, even at the age seventeen I knew I was going to go places.

Hours upon hours of work was played and would be finished in only a few minutes. The dozens of times I rehearsed the same line over and over was executed perfectly. My entire soul went into this play, to the point where it haunted my dreams. It went better than any other performance I've done. So why did I feel so anxious?

Just as I finished my song, I bowed to the audience and heard their cheers and saw them standing whilst clapping. I sighed in relief and smiled to the audience. Only to hear their gasps of horror as something fell on top of me.

The last thing I saw was blood soaking my gorgeous and otherwise untouched violin.

I really should've listened to those butterflies.

I was starting to get a little suspicious, if this was hell why did my cage keep getting bigger? Why could I start moving my legs around? Why were the voices getting louder? Was I meant to lose my mind?

There was only one possible answer to this: I didn't die. Obviously I was just in a coma and would wake up soon, right?

There's no way my life could've been crushed like that. I was a violin prodigy and there were high hopes for me. I was even offered an opportunity to play a soundtrack for a movie! I was going to finally achieve everything I worked for.

I had the best family, even though none of us may have shared blood, we shared memories. We shared the understanding of being adopted and we worked past our racial and language differences. We loved each other and raised each other up, there's no way that it would just end like that.

Where is the fairness? Why did I have to die when I had so many dreams!? I worked my ass off yet I got killed like some bug? I was going to kill the bastard that did this to me!

My entire life! All of the times I spent inside polishing my skills ended up becoming a waste of time. All of those hours spent rehearsing a single line meant nothing if I couldn't even make my name into the history books.

It was dark, all around me was darkness and muffled noises. If I listened closely enough, I could hear a man and a woman fighting. Half of their arguments were too indistinct for me to understand. Was I in some kind of hell?

No, I died a virgin in almost every exciting aspect of being a teenager. I was homeschooled in highschool so I never really had the opportunities to have sex, smoke weed, or even go to a sleepover.

My Ma did get me drunk on my seventeenth birthday though. I hope she's doing okay, I know my death must've been hard on her and my older brothers. The four of them must be heartbroken. Hopefully, they recover from it and realize that I would never want them to sulk over my death. No matter what, I want them to be happy.

If only I could see them once more and tell them that I loved them. If I did that, maybe I wouldn't feel so guilty about leaving them behind.

My entire life, every single thing I worked on meant nothing. The A's I got from studying hours even while balancing my violin career, they meant nothing. Every compliment I showered on my crush, it meant nothing. I was probably nothing but rotting flesh in a coffin now.

I wonder if my family is happy now that I'm gone? I must have been a burden, expecting them to show up to my concerts all the time. Now, my brothers could finally shine a little too.

I should've treated them better. I should have been to every single one of my brother's competitions. I should have gone to karate lessons with my Ma and I should have told her that I loved her more.

It was as though I was sinking into a deep chasm and no matter how hard I tried to climb out, I would only fall again.

I was acting pathetic. I know that. I was only throwing myself a pity party to make myself feel worse. If Ma saw me acting like this she would definitely smack me upside the head and lecture me about dwelling on sad thoughts. After that, she would have given me her famous hot cocoa coffee.

I was dead, and nothing would bring me back.

I should be grateful to how amazing my family was instead. How we supported each other. They gave me so many happy memories and I wouldn't tarnish them by assuming that they were glad I was gone. I should have bigger things on my mind.

Like my new beginning.

I can't believe it took me so long to realize that I was stuck in someone. That I was being reborn. It was like being handed a restart option. I had to take advantage of this opportunity.

The arguing voices stopped and now it was just a woman I heard. She sounded sad, so I kicked her a few times. I don't know what else I was supposed to do, I was terrible when it came to comforting people.

Then, it happened. It felt like I was being pushed through a tube, a very small one since my body felt like it was being crushed.

WHAT THE HELL WAS HAPPENING?!

Wait, I was being born… Still, it hurt like a motherfucker.

So, that was chapter one. We have the death, stages of grief, and rebirth in this chapter. A lot can happen in nine months. Don't be afraid to leave some constructive criticism, I honestly need it.

Who would be your starter pokemon, minus legendaries?

Mine would have to be a Litleo, they look super cute.