Chapter One: One Step Forwards
"Pidgey Pidgey Pidgey! Pidge Eeee Eeee Eeee!"
"I'm nearly done Paige, jeez!"
Alaska Acevedo was tapping furiously, the keys of her laptop threatening to fly off from force, as she rushed to finish the last sentence of her first blog post.
"And… done!" She announced, and clicked the 'enter' key. The screen turned white for a second as the page updated itself, before reloading and revealing the freshly posted blog. Alaska quickly read through it again, making sure there were no typos less she face the wrath of an Internet troll, before smiling. Finally, after three years of putting it off, she was going on her journey. And this blog was going to be what fuelled her feet.
"Pidgey Pidge Pidgey!" A Pidgey squawked loudly and rammed into Alaska's head, as though battering her out the door would make them leave faster. The tawny coloured bird had been in a state ever since Alaska had told her they would finally been leaving, and was now resorting to tugging at her trainer's collar in order to get her to move.
"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" Alaska couldn't blame Paige for being so excited. While most people she knew, neighbours, cousins, older siblings, had gotten emotional about leaving home, she would be shedding no tears. After putting it off for so long, Alaska couldn't wait to leave this house, this city, this life behind.
With a sigh, Alaska stood in the middle of her bedroom, bag hanging from her shoulder, and gazed around it for what she hoped would be the last time. The bare white walls and the tatty single bed were the same as they had been for about eight years. Asides from her desk, the only piece of furniture was her home-made bookshelf; her childhood had been spent reading endlessly, but now her well-worn books hadn't been touched for a year. She had lived in this room her entire life, yet none of this was her. Nothing spoke to who she was. If Alaska wanted to carve an identity for herself, she was never going to achieve that here.
She couldn't blame her parents for this, of course. It was not their decision to let Team Rocket tear their town apart; rather, Alaska thanked them every anniversary, so happy they had dragged her away on that camping trip, thankful that they had avoided the eruption, the tanks, the battle that had literally rocked the region. However, there was no denying how crappy their current situation was: the damage to their house had not been significant enough that they had to leave, but it meant they couldn't apply for compensation either, forcing all their spare money to go towards keeping a roof over their heads.
Alaska shook her head, snapping out of her thoughts and pushing them to the back of her mind. Don't start thinking like this, it's not their fault – I just have to take this chance and make my own name. With a final glance at the few meagre possessions she owned, Alaska hoisted her bag onto her back, let Paige settle on her shoulder, and left the room behind.
One thing Alaska would not miss was opening her door every morning to the sight of peeling wallpaper. The décor was bottom of the priority list post-Rocket, and with her mum working two jobs to make ends meet and keep her siblings in school, the tidying was right down there as well. Alaska made her way down the hall, a stench wafting from the bathroom, her feet kicking up dust in the carpet. While she knew her mother was upset to see her go, Alaska knew the thought of one less mouth to feed, less pressure on the finances, was a secret relief that Robin Acevedo would never say aloud.
"Dad, are you up?" Alaska stepped into the front room, unable to ignore the cracks crawling up the walls and ceiling even in the dark. She got no response, but that was not unusual. She gazed into the kitchen, ignoring the dirty plates piled high in the sink waiting for the weekend, looking for any sign of him.
"Pidge." Paige pointed with a wing into the living room. The curtains were drawn, disguising the ruins of their back yard while blocking out the midday sunlight. You could barely see anything in the gloom, but the flicker of the tiny TV screen was just enough to illuminate the deflated figure staring blankly at it from the couch.
"Hey Dad, I'm just going to register," Alaska called, tentatively approaching her father. William Acevedo did not look up from the screen. Alaska frowned and glanced at Paige, who awkwardly avoided her gaze. "I'll back this afternoon when Mum and Freddie are home. There should be some leftovers in the fridge for lunch." A noise halfway between a grunt and a sigh emitted from his mouth, but Alaska had no idea if he was responding to her or the pop star dancing on screen.
I can't stay here any longer; I can't keep watching this. He had been in this state for so long Alaska wondered if her memories of him were just childhood fantasies, embellished by her desire for the father she thought she once had. The William Acevedo she remembered had been tall, powerful, the life of every room he walked into. He had always put his family first, and had been one of the first people to come back to Viridian and help search through the rubble for survivors.
But the destruction had changed everything for them. When the Pokémon Centre was rebuilt, new automated systems were used to maintain upkeep. People had to be let go, and her father, once the most popular engineer on staff, couldn't adapt to the technology. They couldn't sell the house, not when the land was so damaged and too out of the way to be of any good for the companies. Meanwhile, every job in the town was snapped up by better skilled people migrating from Cinnabar and Johto. There was nothing for William to do but sit around, slowly shrinking in upon himself, and after three years was now just a shell of the man he once was.
Alaska watched him for a few minutes, wondering if he would say something; a kind farewell, a warning of what might be out there, some encouragement for the trip ahead. But William didn't look up at her once, and finally Alaska had no choice but to turn and leave.
It had been five years since the changes had begun, but Alaska still had trouble recognising her own city. She and Paige left the outer edges of Viridian behind, the neighbourhoods that had escaped the brunt of Rocket's carnage, and were soon emerged within the new world that had sprouted up in the heart of her childhood home.
With so many houses destroyed, and with an influx of Cinnabar natives displaced by the hell that had happened there, construction companies had basically been handed the keys to the city. Brick cottages and wooden bungalows with big backyards had been replaced by concrete townhouses, copied and pasted in neat little rows throughout Viridian. It had once been rare for a building to be over two stories, but now small apartment blocks loomed over everyone, a reminder every way you turned of how much it had changed.
For the greater good my arse, Alaska thought bitterly. She looked around it all with contempt, every step easing her guilt over leaving. Three bronze heads shone in the midday sun, visible above every house, and Alaska felt their empty eyes watching her as she tried desperately to avoid them.
The second she left the city boundaries, Alaska felt free. There were no houses on Route 22: only a wide open road, bordered by untampered fields and golden brown cliff faces. The sound of the running stream was like music after the general noise that constantly swelled inside Viridian, and it was all topped off by the snow-capped peak of Mt Silver in the background. The only sign of change was the road, a long, liquorice black strip of tarmac tarnishing the open country. When it was opened, the head of the Pokémon League had said it was a symbol of progress, but with the cracked earth horribly juxtaposing itself alongside, the only thing it symbolised was a band-aid.
However, Alaska wouldn't let herself feel down any further. She was finally here, finally walking this path not as a little girl playing in the grass but as a proper trainer out to start her journey. The sun shone down on her, marking the clear path ahead. There was no one else around; most people signed up on either the first of January or June, and Alaska would have been amongst them a few weeks back had Indigo Dreams not been announced first.
This is better, she thought, looking around at the undisturbed patch of nature. I don't want to be just another name going through the system. I can't just going to fade away into the background, not if I want to prove my point.
"Pidge Pidge Pidgey!" Alaska snapped out of her thoughts and looked up: Paige was flying high above her, doing loop-de-loops and making the most of being free.
"Don't tire yourself out too much – we've still got eight gyms ahead of us!" Alaska yelled. Paige responded defiantly by making even broader loops and picking up speed. Alaska laughed, and she kept watching her, not paying attention to the path ahead. She was so distracted that Alaska only looked down when she felt something brush against her legs, and she froze as she realised where she was.
Everyone knows what happened when you stepped in the long grass. It was one of the first things Alaska had been taught at school: wild Pokémon lurk amongst the green, living out their lives in their natural habitats. They were taught of how Pokémon had agreed to let humans expand their settlements and move around their homes as long as the long grass went untouched.
Alaska could remember how humans had thought they had won, but really Pokémon had the advantage. They could hide amongst the grass or in the surrounding trees, camouflaged by the thick green plant; if a human entered their territory with bad intentions, the Pokémon would know, and the Pokémon would strike first.
As long as you meant well, and if you had your own Pokémon to protect you, Alaska knew that nothing bad would happen to her. Yet this was the first time she had felt the long green blades brush against her, the first time she had even been near a field without her parents or teachers warning them. She gazed around; a Ponyta was chewing some grass near the trees, squealing Rattata were marked by shaking patches in the grass, a Linoone leapt from a tree and dived into the sea of green.
I'll be back, Alaska thought, stepping out of the grass and moving around the field. She glanced up at the trees and saw a pair of beady eyes watching her, but they disappeared as soon as they had appeared. I have to have a good team if I want to win, and I certainly want to fight. But I need to be a trainer first; it has to be official.
The final ten minutes of the walk were much more uneventful. The trees and grass thinned until only a few scraggly bushes remained, and Alaska was too tired to enjoy the view anymore anyway. It turned out a red polo shirt, denim jeans and a ratty pair of trainers was not the best set of clothes to go walking in, while her tatty black bag was digging into her shoulders despite having little in it,
"Next time I embark on a journey, Paige, I seriously have to work out more first," Alaska wheezed to her starter, who had grown tired of flying and now sat on her shoulder. Paige nodded in agreement, a tad too judgementally for Alaska's liking, but all that was forgotten when she looked up and took in the Indigo League Headquarters.
It was one of the most beautiful buildings she had ever seen. The earthy brown walls made it look like it had been carved out of the cliffs itself. A grand stone staircase led from the route up to the glass doors, flanked by magnificent marble pillars that were taller than any building in Viridian. Mirrored black windows added a touch of modernity, but the main attraction was the Indigo League logo, emblazoned in the centre of the roof: the silhouette of a trainer with a PokéBall on his chest, surrounded by flames, leaves and water drops, all this on a magnificent golden badge. Red had had it rebuilt exactly how it had been prior to Rocket destroying it, and Alaska couldn't be happier to be here, staring up at the building that had inspired so many trainers. Even the Charmander, Bulbasaur and Squirtle references couldn't dent her pride.
When I'm Champion, that figure will be a kick ass bitch surrounded by a tornado and feathers, Alaska thought, grinning broadly at Paige. The Pidgey was obviously stunned, her pink beak hanging open. Alaska would have laughed in any other circumstance, but she couldn't; not here, not now.
"Are you ready?" Her voice was quiet, anxious. Paige could hear the frightened tone and turned, her own face a little anxious. But after a moment, she puffed out her chest and nodded firmly, and that was all the encouragement Alaska needed.
"Let's do this then," she said, and took her first step onto the stairs.
When the sliding doors parted, Alaska found herself inside the grandest entrance hall she would likely ever be in. The walls were the same colour as outside, complimented by a rich red carpet mirrored in the ceiling. The size was made more apart by the sparse furnishings: only a dozen black leather sofas and armchairs sat against the walls, while four big desks were spread around. Gazing at the two to her right, Alaska saw one was a mini medical centre, as a nurse sat attentively behind, while the second was selling supplies, manned by a bored looking boy barely older than her.
"This place is fucking huge," Alaska whispered to Paige as she gazed at the crystal chandelier above them. Her voice echoed back to her, and the half-dozen workers all looked up at her. Alaska felt embarrassed, but she took it on the chin and boldly walked towards the two desks at the opposite end. A guard sat in a cubby to the right of them, next to an open passageway leading further into the mountain.
I'll be back for that one later, Alaska thought. Victory Road lay beyond, and she knew that eight badges were needed to get past. A scandalized middle-aged woman was manning the desk to check trainers had the requirements, and Alaska flashed her a beam as she instead stepped up to the registration desk.
"Hello there," the man behind the wooden bench said with a smile. "How may I help you?" He was going grey, had half-moon glasses perched on his crooked nose, and was wearing an old green jumper to which a name badge reading Steve was proudly attached.
"Steve, you have the great honour of registering the next Champion of the Indigo League," Alaska said proudly, and the older man chuckled.
"That confidence will get you far, my dear," Steve said as he took her identification. As he explained the process to her, Alaska drifted off, her eyes flickering towards the entrance to Victory Road: how long would it be before she came back here? Would she ever actually make it back here?
Of course I will, nothing is going to stop me, she told herself. Yet the badge checker was looking at her up and down, lips pursed, and Alaska had the uncomfortable sensation she was already being judged.
"I'M A TRAINER! I'M A TRAINER!"
Her voice echoed throughout the empty valley; Pidgey and Spearow flew up in fright from the nearest tree. But Alaska didn't care: she had her Trainer Card, she was being processed; she was officially an Indigo League trainer.
"We can finally compete in gym battles now; we can take part in the next League Championship; I can challenge Red to a battle!" Alaska cried, practically dancing down the road. "And we are going to do this together – you and me, Paige, showing everyone what we can do."
"PIDGEY PIDGE!" Paige cried, and she twirled about in the air, flapping her wings so vigorously that mini-Gusts were whipped up. Alaska laughed and followed beneath her, clutching her card like it was her life source. Finally, I've wait so long for this. Nothing is going to stop me now. Its clear roads from here on – PAIGE, stop that!" The Pidgey stopped just seconds before she dive-bombed a school of Goldeen bobbing on the lake's surface.
"Pidge Pidgey Pidge!" Paige huffed, turning and soaring instead towards the trees. Alaska looked apologetically at the annoyed Goldeen and chased after her Pokémon.
"I know your happy as well, but now isn't the time to celebrate, we need to head home!" She shouted. Paige just poked her tongue out and dived through the branches of the tree. Alaska sighed and walked up to its roots, trying to get sight of her. She grabbed Paige's PokeBall, ready to withdraw her if she didn't come out. However, Paige's chirping had stopped, replaced with an annoyed growling instead.
"Paige…? Are you alright?" Alaska asked, tensing up slightly. She stepped to her left, trying to get a better view, when something brushed her leg. In the same moment, a loud screech erupted from the trees: Alaska jumped, stumbling further into the grass in her fright, and watched as Paige soared out from the leaves. A ball of white fluff lurched after her, falling just short of grabbing her talons and plummeting to the ground instead.
"What the-" Alaska gasped as she got to her feet. The ball jumped up, limbs and a tail appearing, and Alaska took the creature in: it was small and furry, with stick like arms and legs and a thin but curved trail; its nose was snout like, and its eyes were beady with a nasty edge, glaring at Alaska from either side of its brown nose.
It's a Mankey, she thought. "You were watching me from the trees before, weren't you?"
"Man-KEY-KEY!" The Mankey screeched, and slashed at Alaska. She jumped backwards so the long claws just missed her. It was shocking, but Alaska realised what they had unwittingly stumbled into.
"Paige, this is our first battle," she said, looking at the angry bird flapping beside her. "Are you ready for this?"
"PIDGE!" She cried boldly, glaring at the Mankey, who was poised, ready to strike again.
"Alright then – QUICK ATTACK!" Alaska yelled, grinning broadly, and Paige set off like a rocket. Alaska tensed up, waiting to see how her orders played out, and knew her journey was truly about to begin.
