Hello everyone and welcome to the first chapter! Thanks for reading, and please leave honest reviews! And importantly, those of you who don't should know that this story is part of a shared universe with the following stories:

Brendan's Journey (by Jmoul 18-it has 60 chapters and 333 reviews aka it's a popular story)

A Hui Hou Kaku (by BraviaryScout-it's got 50+ chapters and still being written, but it's an awarded FFN story and is arguably the biggest Alola story on this site)

Into the Storm (by Jmoul 18- a story about the Orre region that encapsulates the darker side of Pokemon and is just as great a read as Brendan's Journey-it's a must-read)

Another note before the chapter: the writing quality has improved dramatically over the 4 years since I wrote this, so to those of you who've had the patience to stick around after the first few chapters, you have my sincerest gratitude.

Chapter 1: Initiation

The sound of furious exertion filled the air an 18-year-old boy was striking rapid kicks and punches into a red punching bag in his room, pausing only to adjust his form and catch his breath. The heave behind every blow and the heft behind every hook revealed that this wasn't an exercise for discipline or training but one that vented hot frustrations. He built the force of his punches into a crescendo until he dug in a kick that swung the bag up into a 90-degree position that touched the ceiling along its length, temporarily relieved of his mental tension.

An acceptance letter to the prestigious Mauville University sat on his desk, its implications reeling his mind: a chance it to study law. It was why he continued school for so long even though many of his friends, save for Barry, had left for their Pokémon adventures. They would run out with the promises of returning as Champions and Gym Leaders, ignoring the harsh truth that the vast majority of them would become fodder battlers for stronger trainers. In fact, he knew of some children who remained bug catchers on some remote route for nearly eight years since they began. Sure, everyone in Sinnoh knew of some good trainers, and even he respected their craft, but he knew that any title short of Gym-leader or Champion would not be enough to provide for him or a family. Or his own mother. His only reliable way to survive in the future was his education.

He wiped the beaded sweat on his forehead, steadied his stance, and began pummeling the bag again. While the bag was taking his wrath, the TV beside him began to proceed to a new program after the advertisements. New voices narrating the program, seizing his attention and prompting him to give the poor bag some respite and hang his towel around his neck as he intently watched. There was a boy on TV not older than him, wearing what looked like a funny white beanie that made him look like he had white hair, riding a bicycle at rapid pace alongside a Kirlia and girl his age. The scene then cut to a battle where the girl and boy seemed to have teamed up against the announcers. A Combusken and a Kirlia were tearing away at a Wishmur and Magnemite with unprecedented ease and power. The ever-perceptive Lucas instantly began deconstructing the expressions in the trainer's and Pokemon's eyes, knowing the fire of a capable fighter. The program then cut to an interview with the two trainers. The boy was named Brendan and moved from Goldenrod City to Hoenn. His Kirlia was named Gwen and could also use Telepathy and quite a bit of sass to talk to humans. The girl, named May, was actually not a trainer but a coordinator for contests. The two clearly had feelings for each other based on how they kept softly looking at each other while the other spoke. When asked about their aspirations, Brendan said something that struck a chord with Lucas: "Well, I'm a trainer aiming to win the Hoenn League title and eventually become the Champion."

"Well that concludes this week's episode of In Search of Trainers," the announcer said. "Stay tuned! Next week, we travel to the wonderful Sinnoh region!"

"I like him: he's probably the first trainer in years to actually have a chance at getting somewhere," Lucas thought. He could feel his brain heating up as the painful question of careers and the future forced speculative calculations upon his mind. He sat down on his bed and ran his hand through his damp, sweat-heavy hair, feeling doubt and guilt creep up on him. A lawyer: he wanted to be one for the rest of his life, right? That had always been what he wanted. Mauville University had already sent him an acceptance, and he was just eight or so years away from his endgame. Money, a family, success, and dignity: they would all be his if he stayed on this track. But of course, he had to pay for all that. Not just with money, but with time.

His father had passed away just a few years ago, and what wealth they had was lost with him, leaving Lucas and his mother with only their house and several thousand Poke-Dollars. To keep themselves alive, Lucas' mother had to work long and hard shifts at the Pokémon Center; she saw her son for only a few hours in the day once the sun was beginning to set behind the woods of their small house in Twinleaf. With price for a degree in the hundreds of thousands of PokeDollars, Lucas would be forced to sail a ship made of IOUs.

Lucas stared up at the bright lights in his celling, lost in thoughts as the rays berated his retinas. He had a choice: he could become a lawyer and risk everything to achieve his dreams, or he could become something else, someone else, and bring in the money his family needed now. The only question was, what would he become if not the man he was in his dreams?

Lucas stood once more and trotted down the stairs into the living room of his little house. It wasn't much, there was only a TV, a couch, and a kitchen on the bottom floor, but it sufficed. He collapsed on the couch, rubbing the bridge of his nose and diving into pensive thought. His mother, Johanna, took notice of her crestfallen child. She had had Lucas when she was 24, and since James had passed away Lucas was all she had that held her to her sanity. Seeing him like this was crushing her soul. "Lucas?" she called before pausing to wet her strained vocal chords with some water. "Lucas? What's the matter, dear?" She made his way over to him and sat by his side, stroking his hair. "Lucas, nothing will change if you don't talk to me."

"Nothing will change if I do, either."

"We'll see about that. Now, tell me. Something is bothering you."

"Mom, I got into Mauville University."

"I know; you were ecstatic when the results came out, jumping up and down the entire house." She giggled a bit, remembering the excited and energetic image of Lucas. "But what about that?"

"We can't pay the fees."

Her expression changed as the gravity of the situation rose beyond her ability to console him. "I know that too," she said hesitantly. "But I'm sure there's a way for us t—"

"There is no way. I have to take on debt."

"Well, I'm sure that's no problem. You're a smart kid, and you'll pay it off in no time once you're a hotshot young attorney."

"That's not the only problem." Johana's face began to become sullen as he said this. She knew what was coming next.

"We'll have no way to pay for your medical bills. I won't be there to take care of you. You might…" his voice trailed off as he refused to say what his mind knew would happen. years of tiring and unceasing work began to wear down on her bones and flesh, reducing her chances of staying employed; for now, she could take care of herself, though her age and arthritis left a clock ticking on how long that would be a possibility.

There was an uneasy pause that ensued before Johana spoke: "Don't you worry about me. Even if I look dead, I'll be as good as alive if I know that you're happy. Lucas, you've always wanted this, and I don't want to be the one to ever hold you back. If that's the path you want, don't be a fool and stop for me."

"I'm not accepting anyone else leaving me," Lucas shakily said as tears began to fight the clarity of his vision. Johana knew what had to be done. It had been a long time coming, but if it was ever going to be of use know was the time. He deserved to know.

"Lucas Drake, that last name of yours has more weight than you think it does." Lucas was puzzled. So far as he knew, there was nothing that suggested his family was ever out of the ordinary: even when his father was alive his work was almost entirely within blue-collar trades. "James was a trainer once." Lucas' eyes widened with bewilderment and disbelief. His mother was either lying or a lunatic. "He went all the way to the Elite 4. He was a trainer with some promise. Then things became… political then. Some longstanding forces that be didn't want him there; some other trainer of their choice was to be installed in his seat." A tear rolled down Johana's cheek. "He'd only been an Elite 4 member for a few months when the first death threat came in." Lucas knew where this was headed. "By the time a few more came in, James had lost it. We didn't have any children then, hell, we weren't even married," she chuckled for a bit as her eyes sparkled with a hint of happier times, "But the mere possibility that something might happen to his future family left him scarred. He left that life behind; he gave up his Pokémon; and he decided that steel and smelting would better suit our safety. You were born a few years later, but by that time, Pokemon training and battling were long gone to us."

"Wh-Why are you telling me this now. After 18 years, now felt like a good time to tell me?" Lucas said, indignation in his voice. "I have a legacy to live up to, something larger than me to stand for, and you hide it from me? Why? What made you and dad think this?"

"Your father knew you had potential. And he knew that it would defeat you. If your ambitions to be Champion, Gym Leader, or Elite 4 were ever fulfilled, he feared what happened to him would happen to you. So we sheltered you from it. Now, I have no choice. I want you to be a lawyer, but you seem more reluctant than ever to become one, even if it is still your dream. This… this is the only other real path you can take. You have a legacy to guide you, a name to uphold, and a destiny to fulfill. Lucas, do what you will, but know this is a path that can lead to greatness, especially for a boy like you."

"Are you saying I should—"

"Become a Pokemon trainer, yes. But not any ordinary one. Lucas, everybody knows how much you love the fight. Your eyes and mentality can knock opponents out on their own. Now imagine if you had a team of equally strong and motivated partners: a force to be reckoned with if I say so myself. You are the heir to your father's throne, but be more than that. Become strong. Become unstoppable. Become Champion."

"M-mom I need some time to think. This isn't a small ordeal by any measure. I-I don't think it's for me. I never liked trainers. They always think their Pokemon are the best and they rush like retarded bulls into every fight. I'm not like that..."

"And you don't have to be. Please don't tell me you think every trainer who ever lived behaves that way," Johana chuckled.

A small contemplative silence followed. Johana thought Lucas remembered his father and his past, but Lucas was actually thinking of Brendan and May. They weren't the erratic dolts he thought Pokémon trainers to be. Their fight reminded Lucas of his own style of battle. If he did this right, perhaps he could rival even them.

"Take your time to think about this Lucas." She coughed a little before she spoke again. "Just know that whatever choice you make, it's right in my eyes."

"Thanks, mom." Lucas got up, his brain still reeling from the sudden revelation. Perhaps some sleep would calm his muscles and mind. He moped upstairs as the weight of his workout pressed his legs to the floor. For a moment, his predicament evaporated as the bed welcomed him to a relaxing rest.

He awoke the next day refreshed. Lucas saw the clock: 7:42 a.m. "I'd better get ready." He dashed in and out of the bathroom, brushing his teeth and taking a quick shower. As he got dressed, he opened the third drawer on his dresser to grab a shirt. Looking down, he saw a flat-top hat. It had a half-Pokeball design on the side and was mostly blue. Brendan had never worn that hat, but his mom would never throw it out. He did something that he would have never done until the events of last night. He looked at the manufacture's tag on the hat and saw two things: the name "JAMES" written in permanent marker and a copyright sign next to the year it was made. It was his father's. Lucas held the cap in his hands and stared, his cloudy future gaining more clarity the longer he looked at the cap. He had decided.

Lucas called Barry. If there was anyone who needed to know about this, it was definitely Barry. Lucas prepared himself for the adrenaline about to fill the room.

A minute later, a loud THUD was heard from downstairs. Lucas stopped for a moment as he heard rapidly firing feet fly up the staircase and carve a path towards his room. He smiled, expecting a familiar face to walk in.

Sure enough, a boy with wavy, blond hair, a striped white and orange shirt, beige pants, and a green scarf ran in, panting and grinning before looking at Lucas. "There you are!" he said. "Man, I've always wanted to go on a journey. But you wanted to be a lawyer. But now you don't? It's a dream come true for me! We could be best friends and best rivals; you dig? Anyways, did you just see the TV yesterday? Sure you did. So those two trainers, Brendan and May, they got their Pokémon from a professor. There's a professor not far from here, his name is Rowan and he has lots of Pokémon. We're going there. If we ask him for some, he'll give us Pokémon!" he paused for a fraction of a second before he spotted a blue PC in the corner of Lucas' room. "Oh hey cool! A new PC? That's awesome!" the boy said before he recollected his senses. "Oh, right, right. We're gonna go see Professor Rowan and get some Pokémon! I'll be waiting outside. Last one there's a fairy type!" The boy bolted in a haze right out of the door as the commotion of his feet was carried down the stairs and out of the door.

"That Barry," Lucas began, "the dude needs to cut on the sugar... is it sugar?" Lucas put on a white scarf and dark blue jacket over his red shirt underneath. He was about to walk out of the door of his room to follow Barry when he remembered something: the flat-top beret.