POKEMON: A Savior's Legacy [(R), Multi-ships: Poke, Advance, Pearl]

[PokemonLegacy]

Here are the first two chapters of my fanfic novel. Normally, I will post one chapter every Sunday night, but to start off, I'm posting the first two so hopefully people will get hooked. *crosses fingers*

I posted this on BMGf as well, so yea it's there too.

I will post more chapters more often if a lot of people comment. :)

It is Rated-R for violence, some language, and some sexual content. It could be rated PG-13 in my opinion, but R to be safe!

Also, it contains multiple shipping hints including Poke, Advance, and Pearlshipping throughout the story...you'll have to read the whole thing to find out how the romance angle plays out though. :)

Anyways, you can read a summary of the entire novel in my blog
here.

And the Prologue, 'The World of Pokemon' can be viewed here.

PLEASE be sure to comment and/or criticize. Also anyone is welcome to ask questions or start speculation about the story! Again...I LOVE COMMENTS about my work...so pleeeeeease, pretty please post!

[Oh yeah, and I don't own Pokemon or any of their copyrighted stuff. I invented a few of the characters and Pokemon in this novel, but obviously I do not profit from any of this...SO DON'T SUE ME!] :D

Now, without further ado...here is Chapter One!

...


Violent horizontal rain shot down from the pitch black sky like bullets and blasted against the canopy of the lush, jungle-like forest, its vast entanglement of bushy branches, vines, and huge leaves acting like an umbrella to the forest floor below. The blustering winds screamed like a dying banshee while violently shaking the trees and other exposed plant life with the force of a high-level whirlwind attack.

Huge, white-hot crackles of electricity zinged all around the sky, high above the tops of the tallest trees which partially shielded the ground from much of the pouring rain and the deafening roar of the storm. Only light sprinkles of cold rain were allowed to trickle down to the ground below the protective canopy.

The hundreds, probably thousands, of towering tree trunks stretched seemingly all the way to the sky. From below, the sky was barely visible except for a few open patches here and there, but bright flashes of lightning still managed to briefly illuminate the forest's underbelly from the heavens.

At this time of night especially, this section of the forest-floor looked almost impossible to navigate as there were no beaten paths, and the entangled web of low-hanging branches, bushes and other vegetation dominated the area.

Only a few varieties of bug and rodent-Pokemon scurried about the forest floor, barely visible in the darkness. This area normally teemed with life during a sunny day because it was miles away from any city, road, or Pokemon center, which meant that no humans ever came around the area. The Pokemon and plants were free to prosper and live without interruption…except for the chilly, wet weather on this night.

But a closer look revealed a strange and dark building standing within the shroud of vegetation.

The huge, mostly windowless, warehouse-like structure looked extremely out of place in the virtually unreachable part of the lush forest. The brown-colored building was camouflaged by the huge army of lower tree branches and tangles of lush vines and foliage, aided of course by the blackness of night.

To the typical passerby, the area would probably look like nothing more than a secluded section of this vast maze of nature. And in such a deep part of the endless jungle, the only people who encountered the warehouse were those who already knew of its secret location. There was a faint flicker of light coming from inside through a small, dingy window, but it was quickly masked by a sudden lightning strike.

Inside this mysterious warehouse, hidden deep within the impenetrable depths of miles of forestry, a storm was apparently beginning to brew as well.

The main area inside the building looked just as one would expect judging from the exterior.

The interior of the warehouse looked like a huge airplane hangar, its walls stretching probably five or six stories high. There were no light sources inside as the many bulbs lining the ceiling had apparently all been shattered and broken. The only light came in from the sporadic lightning strikes outside.

The entire floor stretched for probably the size of a football field. It was a barren grey color and had cracks in the concrete looking like a series of spidery veins, obviously showing evidence of repeated impact of some kind. There were also a few dozen huge crater-like holes in the ground, almost like a meteor had smashed into the warehouse's floor.

Still visible on the damaged concrete floor, in the middle of this vast gymnasium, there were a series of faded yellow lines painted on the dusty concrete in the shape of a rectangular field of some sort. The walls looked like they had been violently damaged as well.

As the lightning continued outside, the huge scratches, dents, and burn marks could be seen scattered throughout most of the walls. What sort of thing or creature could have wreaked so much havoc upon this apparent training facility?

Besides the apocalyptic storm banging against the small windows patterned along, just below the huge ceiling from outside, the hangar was eerily quiet and empty.

There were no people here, and the only objects in the entire gym area were some disheveled looking piles of scrap metal and some jagged chunks of debris, varying in size and shape, that had been cracked loose by whatever had destroyed the walls and floor.

Suddenly a sharp noise interrupted the silence.

An ear piercing-scream? Or…was it just the hurricane-force winds howling outside?

"Aaaaaaaargh!! NO!!!!"

No. There it was again.

Although it was muffled--obviously in another room nearby--it was definitely someone screaming; a very desperate and terrified male voice.

From inside the huge hangar, the scream sounded like it came from behind the rusty metal wall on the west side of the building. It was a chilling shriek, the kind only inspired by intense fear or pain.

Behind that wall, in a much smaller dimly-lit room, a skinny man in a white lab coat was sprawled out on the floor, trembling in fear. He was slouched on the smooth-tiled floor, half-lying down on his back, half-hoisting himself up with his arms.

All around him in the room was a Frankenstein-like collection of Bunsen burners, beakers, and test tubes containing a rainbow of multicolored liquids, not to mention a dozen or so complex-looking computer systems and their vibrantly glowing screens. Gigantic and expensive-looking, high-definition television monitors hung on every wall to display test results and visual simulations.

The scientist in the lab coat, who looked like he worked there, continued to cower from his position on the floor, and let out a few pathetic yelps for mercy.

A tall, imposing man with broad shoulders stood over him angrily, a look of complete evil on his stone-cold, angular face. His huge shadow swallowed the scientist up on the floor.

"P-p-please, s-sir," the scientist stuttered hysterically.

His glasses were cracked and crookedly balanced on his nose, which was slowly dripping blood onto his white coat like a leaky faucet. His left eye was swollen and beginning to darken in color, like it had been struck violently. Tears began to spill down his sweaty, panicked face, which was scattered with various cuts and bruises. His uncontrollable sobs began to take over his ability to speak.

The hulking man began to laugh in a chillingly sinister tone. His black beady eyes could have burned holes through concrete with the intensity of their stare. Although most of his features were shrouded by the darkness of the dimly-lit lab, what little light there was reflected off the man's dark black, slicked-back hair as well as the gold buttons of his expensive brown business suit.

The way this bruising man cackled made the scientist shiver with even more fear, as he realized that no one could hear his screams. He was all alone, and his fate was near. He finally let a loud sob burst from his mouth.

"P-Please, let me go!" The frantic scientist sobbed like a toddler. "I've done everything you've asked me to do!"

The evil man in the suit remained merciless towards the young professor.

"Yes, I suppose you have," his raspy, baritone voice boomed. "And we have been working together for some time now, Professor. But you see…now that the waiting is over and we can finally begin Phase One of my plan…I don't need you anymore!"

The large man pulled a dark grey handgun from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and began to slowly draw it towards the scientist, who was still sprawled out on the floor at the man's feet. A look of pure horror overcame the man in the lab coat instantly upon eyeing the weapon pointed at him from above.

"Holy sh-****!" he screamed, as his bottom lip quivered uncontrollably, shaking his head in frantic disbelief.

"Please, s-sss-Sir! Don't k-kill me! I s-swear I won't tell anyone about anything!"

The scientist's arms and hands shivered like a seizure as the scientist clasped his hands together in a pleading motion.

"I appreciate the loyalty, Professor." The man in the suit spoke without much sincerity. His eyes, as well as the barrel of the gun, remained focused on his employee down on the floor.

"And you have done marvelous work, but now you have fulfilled your purpose…and I can't risk you telling anyone about the mission. Plus, you are the only person who knows enough about the artifact to even have a chance of stopping me…"

"So, better to be safe than sorry."

With that, the man with the gun firmly and calmly squeezed the trigger…once…twice…three times.

Unshaken by the inhumane act of murder he had just committed, the man re-holstered his smoking gun and stared down calmly at the dead scientist lying in the increasingly large pool of blood. He spoke to the lifeless body as if nothing had happened.

"Good work, Professor Moss. It's because of you that we are able to finally achieve our goals! It won't be long now."

With that, the man in the suit turned to leave the lab, but he remembered to retrieve the professor's research notes on his way out. After grabbing the thick notebook, he exited the sliding lab door, and instructed the armed guard outside of the door to "clean the mess up" as he strolled by.

His shoes' hard heels clicked and clacked with every step he made along the granite floors as he made his way from the main laboratory, through the long hallway and down to his office, which was located in the basement, underground.

The man walked confidently as he descended down the short metal staircase and reached the glass and steel-trim doors to his spacious office. The normally-stoic man was almost giddy at the thought of what was going to transpire in just a few short days. Something he had been looking forward to for years now.

At long last, the time had finally come.

His office was large and fully carpeted in a luxurious dark red, velvet-looking material. The entire office was bathed in a soft, cozy orange glow; the only real light source inside was the roaring brick fireplace against the far wall. The inviting warmth was a stark contrast to the dark and cold monsoon going on outside.

There was a huge, fancy wooden desk, which stood neatly facing the fireplace from the opposite wall. Solid gold trim lined its outer edges, and several high-tech computers were stationed on top of the smooth wood.

All along the wall behind the desk, stood huge bookshelves extending nearly ten feet in the air. Lining the many columns of tan wooden shelves were thousands of research text books, various brown leather-bound encyclopedia volumes, and countless collections of scientific articles. There was even a sliding ladder in place, just like at the finest and fanciest of public libraries, providing access to even the highest shelves.

The gunman in the suit entered the lavish digs and plopped down in the swiveling black leather chair behind his royal-looking desk and scooted closer to it so that he was in good position to review the late-professor's research notes: a huge book of handwritten data and information regarding the long-awaited plan and the scientist's special invention that would help the man finally carry it out.

He unbuttoned his blazer as he lounged in his reclining desk chair, and began to read.

As he read the late-professor's notes, the man sat back and reflected on this entire ordeal and thought back to before he'd ever had this secret headquarters constructed in the forest…back to before this marvelous plan had been hatched.

He thought back to that day almost five years ago, when he and his henchmen made that mysterious discovery at Mount Yoshii.

It was a discovery that would jumpstart his master plan. That was when he had hired Professor Moss to figure out what exactly the strange discovery was. With Moss' help, the man had soon realized that the strange artifact he'd found would be the key to his lifelong dream of supreme power!

Even before that day half-a-decade ago--and for his entire life really--the man had yearned for great power. But for years, he had believed that great wealth was the best way to acquire such power and status.

His family had owned an incredibly wealthy drilling company which they had passed down to him long ago. But after years of making unimaginable amounts of money, the man realized that he wanted more…much more.

He realized that people did indeed respect those with wealth, but they didn't fear them…they didn't heed his every request. The man learned that money could only buy so much power. The type of power he wanted would need to be obtained in a different way.

He would have to take it!

And now…finally…after many years, the man was in position to do just that. The time for his ultimate plan was almost here!

Still obviously daydreaming about how his long-awaited plan was finally coming to fruition, the boss stared straight ahead from his desk chair, a wide grin beginning to stretch across his face as he tried to hold in his excitement for what was about to occur.

*BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!*

The boss jumped a little at hearing the sharp beeping of the intercom on his desk extinguishing his thoughts.
He leaned over and pressed the glowing button on the intercom.

"Yes?" the man in the suit barked, angry at being disturbed.

"Sir, I have the computer analyst, Ms. Sarah Clayton, on the line…" A female voice reported from the other end of the intercom.

"Good. Put her through."

"Ah, Ms. Clayton," the man greeted. "I trust you are calling because you've changed your mind about what we discussed the other day."

The female voice on the other end of the intercom whispered nervously and sounded extremely frightened. There was a distinct sound of static in the background as her voice quivered.

"Yeah…Alright, I'll do it. I'll do whatever you say… just don't hurt my kids!"

"A wise decision, indeed, young lady. And remember…not a word of anything to anybody. If you tell anyone about your assignment, rest assured, I will know…and your children will be killed. Just do what you've been told, and no one will have to get hurt."

"Alright, alright! I promise!" The woman's voice was trembling. She sounded hysterical.

"Good. Get to Sancterra City on the double! And do not let anyone see you hacking into their mainframe once you get there. Call me back when you are finished…after it's done, your kids will be returned to you."

"Wait! How am I supposed to even get into the stadium? I'm just a computer programmer! What can I do? Security around that place is going to be crazy!"

"Precisely, Ms. Clayton. Which is why we need you to break into the control room and hack into their computerized security system. I'm sure you and that special Pokemon of yours will be able find a way into the stadium."

"What!? How…how did you know about--"

"Listen, *****…enough with the 'twenty questions!' If you ever want to see your precious children…your flesh and blood…you will shut up and just do as you've been told!" the man hissed, and hung up on the frightened woman.

Sarah Clayton heard the phone click and knew the monster on the other end had hung up. She was trembling in fear still as she reached her hand down to hang up the phone on her work desk.

All the young woman could do was stare at her computer screen in front of her and try to look like she was busy at work in her snug office cubicle.

She stood up briefly and surveyed the large office building full of cubicles, computers, and white-collar workers, looking for her boss. She didn't want him to walk by and see her like this.

Sarah hastily straightened her cleanly pressed white shirt and dress skirt with her hands, trying to compose herself, but even that proved to be too difficult at a time like this.

"What am I going to do?" Sarah cried to herself as she brushed a lock of ruby red hair from her face.

Sarah shuddered when she remembered first being contacted by that mysterious man on the phone a few days ago.

He had told her that he wanted her to break into the Sancterra City Stadium's security system. He had offered her a large sum of money to do so, but she had refused. She didn't know who this man was, how he had gotten her number, or even why he had chosen her to do this dirty deed in the first place. So she simply hung up the phone, thinking it was nothing but a prank call. A few days had passed, and she hadn't thought anything about it.

But today, when Sarah had arrived at work just hours ago, she had found a startling e-mail waiting for her as soon as she had logged into her work computer.

"We have your children. If you ever want to see them alive again, you will do as we say. No police, or they're dead. We'll contact you with the details." The message read.

The frightening e-mail was accompanied by an even more horrific picture, which had been attached to the document. It showed her two young children tied up in a dark room, both their mouthes covered by silver duct-tape. Terrified looks were on both of her kids' faces, tears streaming down their cheeks.

Sarah nearly fainted from horror when she had seen it. She tried tracing the location of e-mail sender, but whoever had sent it had obviously covered his or her tracks.

She was so scared for her children's safety, but she knew she couldn't tell anyone for fear that the evil man might make good on his promise to hurt them if she did. Sarah had no choice but to call the man back and agree to his sinister demands.

Tears began to well up in her soft green eyes as she sat in her desk chair and thought about her helpless children who were undoubtedly terrified and confused without her.

"Oh my god!" Sarah sobbed quietly to herself as she sat in her computer chair inside her office cubicle.

She was interrupted by a voice from behind her. The young woman quickly dried her eyes as best she could and spun around in her desk chair.

"Sarah, are you alright?" A fellow computer-analyst wearing a plain light-blue shirt and navy-colored tie was standing at the opening of the cubicle and had a concerned look on his face.

"Oh, um…hello, Luke. Yes, I'm fine," Sarah lied to her co-worker, trying to hide her red, puffy eyes as best she could.

"Are you sure?" the brown-haired man in his mid-twenties asked, obviously not convinced by her answer. He pushed his black-rimmed glasses back into position on his nose with his fingers, looking puzzled.

Sarah started to spew tears again despite her best efforts to hold them in. She finally broke. She had to tell someone…and Luke was the only one she could trust right now.

"Oh, Luke! I-I don't know what to do! He's g-g-got my kids! He said he'll kill them!"

She was crying uncontrollably now, but did her best to keep quiet so as not to attract too much attention from other co-workers.

"Whoa, whoa! Slow down, Sarah. What do you mean? Who's got your kids?"

Luke's concerned light-brown eyes were focused on his hysterical co-worker and friend as he kneeled down in front of her, trying to console her.

Sarah did her best to explain the situation to him between bits of sobbing and deep-breaths. She confided in Luke, telling him everything about what had transpired…from the mysterious phone call she had received two days ago to the sickening e-mail and picture she had received just hours ago, and her orders to travel to Sancterra City and break into the stadium's security system.

Luke definitely found this whole ordeal very hard to believe. What would this strange guy want with Sarah anyway? Why was he threatening her? But judging by her hysteria, Luke knew Sarah was serious about all of this.

He had always had a bit of a crush on Sarah ever since they had met years ago during their time in college. They both attended the same university and both shared an interest in computers and new-age technology. And now both worked at the same computer research and development company and remained close friends.

Luke had always felt bad for Sarah, knowing that she didn't have her children's' father in her life to help her out. The young man hated seeing Sarah struggle with juggling her promising career as a top computer programmer along with being a single mother. He had never had the heart to ask Sarah about the father of her children for as long as he'd known her, but Luke knew he wasn't around, and hadn't been for a long time.

Sarah was an incredible computer-whiz--one of the brightest young tech-minds in the entire world--not to mention that she was extremely funny, kind, and beautiful. But Luke felt like her promising career was limited by her maternal duties. He had always wanted to be there for her, but didn't know if he was overstepping his bounds. After all Sarah had never given him any indication that she wanted or needed anyone to help her balance her life.

But now it was clear that Sarah needed him. It was his chance to show her how much he cared about her.

"Don't worry, Sarah. We'll get your kids back!" Luke smiled and wiped a falling tear from Sarah's smooth face as the two sat close together within the cramped walls of her cubicle.


MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE DARK FOREST HEADQUARTERS…


The man in the business suit pressed a button on his desk's intercom after he had hung up on Sarah.

He was pleased. Everything was going according to plans. He again lounged back in his leather desk chair and put his feet up on the desk. He reached into the breast pocket of his expensive suit jacket and pulled out a long, thick cigar and a metal lighter. With one flick of his thumb, he lit the brown cigar and puffed it three times in order to ignite it completely. The cherry of the cigar glowed a bright red.

The man exhaled with a satisfied sigh and blew rings of thick grey smoke into the air. He was extremely pleased that Phase One of his plan was going smoothly so far. With the cigar perched by the side of his mouth, he leaned forward and pressed a few buttons on his intercom.

After a few seconds, a new male voice answered the call.

"Yes, Boss?"

"Agent Ryder…what's your status?" The boss removed the cigar from his mouth and held it in between his index and middle fingers casually as he spoke.

"Our men are all in position just outside of Sancterra City, Boss. We're standing by…just waiting for your command."

"Excellent. Ms. Clayton has finally decided to cooperate…so the attack will go on as planned as soon as she's disabled the security system. Make sure you and your men stay out of sight until I give the order to strike! We must time everything perfectly!" The man commanded firmly.

"Understood, Boss. Our soldiers will be ready! These people won't know what hit them!"

The man hung up the phone and again lounged back happily in his chair.

What the man didn't notice, however, was that there was a pair of strange, glowing eyes peering in at him from the tiny window in his underground office located just below the ceiling. The mysterious, vibrant blue eyes glowed brightly outside in the dark and stormy night, watching the man in the suit sitting eagerly at his desk. And once it had seen what it had come to see, the strange creature disappeared back into the depths of the forest.

 

[PokemonLegacy]

"…Tonight, on World News Nightly…"

The nightly television news program's introductory theme music chimed from the small television set which sat alone on a wooden dresser in the corner of an otherwise dark bedroom. A male news anchor ran down the night's top stories in a professional newscaster-sounding voice.

"…Police continue the puzzling investigation at the Blackburn Island Prison, where last week, a death-row inmate mysteriously vanished and remains missing tonight…Investigators are baffled at how the convict was ever able to escape the maximum security prison located on the secluded island…and with absolutely no signs or evidence of an escape whatsoever…

Coming up later in the newscast, you'll see our interview with the Blackburn Prison security officials as they continue the mystifying search for the fugitive as they ask for the public's help in capturing this criminal, who remains at large…

Plus, we'll also talk to some area astronomers as a spectacular, once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon will light up the night sky all this week…we'll tell you when and where YOU can see this breath-taking event take place later on tonight…"

The T.V. news was nothing but background noise to the owner of this dark bedroom, who was sadly slouched in the queen-sized waterbed opposite the dresser. She sat all alone with every light turned off, wallowing in self-pity.

She didn't care about some escaped prisoner a half-a-world away or some stupid outer-space/cosmic event…her depression didn't allow her the time nor the energy to care about current events, only to sit sadly night after night in her dark and lonely bedroom.

Only the ambient white glow of the television screen provided any sort of light in the gloomy room. She only ever turned the television on so the voices and noises would make her feel not completely alone.

"…But first, our top story this evening…"

The news anchor's stern voice emanated again from the talking box.

The excitement in the reporter's voice caught the attention of the teenage girl sprawled limply across the bed. She normally ignored the T.V. completely, but for whatever reason, she lifted her drooping head to stare at the screen.

"The entire world seems to have caught Pokemon Battle-Fever, as the highly anticipated Pokemon World Champions League Tournament finally gets underway tomorrow! Sixty-four of the greatest trainers in the world have descended upon beautiful Sancterra City to do battle for the title of Greatest Pokemon Master in the world…"

The news broadcast had now won the girl's undivided attention.

She didn't realize it was time for the champions league tourney again already. Had she really been this caught up in her sorrows to realize it was that time again? Had it really been four years, already?

She adjusted her sluggish body on the waterbed, which rippled underneath her weight, in order to get comfortable as the news program continued.

The T.V. cut to a magnificent aerial camera shot of the battle stadium in Sancterra City, the site of this week's epic tournament. The open-air, very futuristically modern-looking stadium was an eye-catching sight, especially from a bird's eye view. From above, the girl could see that the Sancterra City Stadium was located right in the middle of the downtown metropolitan area.

Sancterra City was a huge and bustling city with many big buildings, several large shopping malls, countless businesses and restaurants. Definitely a good place to house the many thousands of tourists and Pokemon Battle fans that would swarm the city this week.

There were what looked to be a million empty seats, surrounding a rectangular field marked for Pokemon battles. Huge, towering stadium light fixtures bordered the outer bowl of the stadium. The arena looked gigantic on T.V. It would probably look even bigger from the field-level the next day when there would be about a hundred-thousand screaming fans packed into it, the girl thought.

She continued to watch as the screen switched to a live shot of thousands of screaming fans lined up and camped out in front of the stadium. They were all cheering, carrying hand-drawn signs, and smiling excitedly and waving to the camera in anticipation of the huge event. The long line of spectators waiting for tickets stretched for miles, and they all looked like an army of crawling, tiny bug-type Pokemon from the aerial-view cameras.

Over the past few years, Pokemon trainers--especially the elite ones--were featured on television every week. They had become something like rock stars, and their loyal fan-bases had become huge in numbers recently.

Talk radio and television sports networks analyzed the top Pokemon trainers endlessly. Famous trainers often crossed over to the world of entertainment and movies. They signed big endorsement deals and appeared in all kinds of commercials. The most popular trainers had become superstars, plain and simple. The fans loved them, and in a few short years, the popularity of big-time Pokemon competitions had skyrocketed because of their celebrity.

And this week's much-anticipated Pokemon World Champions League Tournament was the granddaddy of them all!

Only held once every four years, the epic tournament always made for a fan-frenzy because all of the most famous trainers from across the entire globe would be there competing in the same tourney for the right to be called the best in the world. Almost every match-up would feature a celebrity versus another celebrity. Must-see television indeed.

"…four years ago, the Great Lance of Blackthorn City and his powerful Dragon-Pokemon battled their way to supremacy and took home the prestigious title as the greatest trainer alive. This year, Lance returns to defend his crown, but repeating as champion of the world will be no easy task…"

The teen girl was sitting up in her bed by now, riveted to the screen, resting her head on her bent knees which she hugged to her chest. She remembered watching Lance win it all four years ago in epic fashion.

The anchorman continued on, reciting the background info about the tournament for the audience.

"…Assembling from all corners of the world, this competition features the greatest collection of elite trainers anywhere on the planet. Each trainer has qualified, either by first earning the required fifty career gym badges from around the world, or by having earned the title of being an officially licensed Pokemon Gym Leader, Frontier Brain, or Elite Four member…

…All qualifying trainers then competed in regional qualifying tournaments in order to determine which sixty-four trainers would compete here…in the World Champions League Tournament!

The final field of sixty-four is a mixture of gym leaders, E4 members, and other popular professional trainers…but also features a group of relatively unknown trainers looking to make names for themselves…

That's the beauty of this worldwide tournament. It's not about titles, it doesn't matter how many endorsement contracts you have or how many fans you have. Anyone and everyone has a chance…"

The screen then switched to show a diagram of the tournament tree which illustrated the anchorman's words as he began to explain the format of the tournament. The girl already knew how the tournament worked, but kept watching anyway.

"In the first round…the 64-trainer field will be divided into sixteen groups consisting of four trainers each…

During the first round of competition, each trainer will battle every other trainer in his or her group once in 3-on-3 battles, with the top two trainers from each group advancing to the second round.

The second round will be single elimination for the remaining thirty-two trainers…lose and go home. 6-on-6 battles. The last trainer standing will be crowned and recognized as the Best Trainer Alive!"

"Wow," the girl said to herself, thinking about how many people would be tuning into this event. This was definitely going to be a huge deal. The whole world was excited about it, and the winning trainer would certainly become a legend of history.

She was surprised at how many people really followed battles on television to this extent, but her surprise at the magnitude of such a tournament did not mean that this young lady didn't know about Pokemon.

She was familiar with them…very familiar.

In fact, this reminded her, she had to prepare for a few battles herself later this week, right here, at her gym. They obviously wouldn't be as high-profile as the matches due to take place tomorrow in Sancterra, but it was her job. The girl jotted a mental note, reminding her to finish up the maintenance work on the battle field tomorrow.

"Ugh," she growled out loud at the very thought.

The flustered teenager didn't know why she even bothered thinking about work. She just wanted to crawl in a hole in the ground and die. She wasn't actually suicidal by any means, and would never act on her morbid thoughts, but lately that's how she felt. She felt trapped even in her own home, by the monotony and the loneliness in her life.

The girl didn't feel like watching television anymore. She just wanted to lie in her bed, stare at the ceiling and feel sorry for herself. She got up to turn the television off, but she paused when she heard the newsman continue.

"…After the commercial break, our World News battle experts will talk about some of the marquee trainers headlining this huge event…including Cynthia, the gorgeous former champion of the Sinnoh League…Wallace, the flashy and flamboyant entertainer from Sootopolis…and obviously, Lance the Dragon Master, the defending world champion…not to mention many more of the top names in the sport…

And later…we'll tell you about a fifteen-year-old trainer who is just days away from becoming the youngest trainer in history to EVER compete in this legendary tournament! So, stay tuned, we'll be back after these messages from your local sponsors."

The girl's ears perked up when she heard this…not the mention of Cynthia, Wallace or Lance. They and many other famous trainers were dearly beloved by millions of fans, but it was the mention of the fifteen-year-old trainer that caught the teen girl's attention. Something told the girl that she should listen to the news anchor and stay tuned to hear about this young trainer.

"The youngest in history?" The girl couldn't help but sound impressed.

To think, a kid almost the same age as her up against all these iconic trainers from around the globe. She was interested to see who this hotshot kid was. He must be good if he was thinking about going up against these living-legends of Pokemon training, she figured.

The barely sixteen-year old girl stretched and yawned before coaxing her sluggish body to get out of bed and get dressed during the commercial break. At least she'd do something productive before the show came back on. Although…how could getting dressed at night time after spending all day depressed in bed be considered productive?

She had just turned "sweet sixteen" only a few days ago, but there was no fancy party, pretty dress, or big celebration. Her entire family was away, as were her childhood friends. The big day came and went, with the birthday girl spending the entire time alone in her room.

With the bedroom still mostly dark, the girl shed her pajamas for real clothes for the first time that day, despite the day being nearly over. She brushed her messy copper bangs away from her face after she pulled a sleeveless shirt on over her head.

She stood in front the mirror by her bed, trying to straighten out her bed head in the white glow of the television. Over the past couple of years, the girl had gotten so used to toiling in darkness all the time, that she had gotten good at performing her daily tasks like dressing and brushing her hair in the mirror with little to no light.

As she finished, a framed photograph sitting on the adjacent dresser caught her eye when the light from the T.V. reflected off of it just right. She could barely make out the photo in the dark room, but she had obviously seen it enough to know what it looked like.

It was a picture of her when she was maybe ten or eleven years old. Lately, the first thing that came to mind every time she looked at that photo was the fact that she was smiling. Smiling…wow. She hadn't truly done that in quite some time, at least not the way she was smiling in that photo.

In it, the spunky ten-year-old version of the girl was grinning from ear to ear from a true sense of happiness. She was posing in her standard childhood manner with one hand on her hip and the other in the air, her first two fingers forming a peace sign. Her stunning bluish-green eyes seemed to sparkle more brilliantly back then. There was a beautiful sunny, blue sky as well as a crystal blue ocean in the background of the photo.

And standing along side her in the photo was a young boy. Probably the most unique and special boy she had ever encountered in her life.

He appeared to be about the same age as her. He had messy black hair, with innocent yet passionate chocolate-brown eyes, wearing a blue jacket and red and white baseball cap. He had his arm around her shoulder, and he was grinning the same goofy grin that he always did whenever he was smiling for a picture.

Behind the two children in the picture stood a taller, older boy. He had dark brown spiked hair, and grinned for the camera with a happy Vulpix sitting on his shoulder. Surrounding the three young humans in the photo were all sorts of smiling Pokemon of differing shapes and colors, everyone looking cheerful together all those years ago as the best of friends.

A slight feeling of warmth almost touched the girl until she caught herself gazing at the photo. But, any happiness she felt reminiscing about the past was instantly deflated when she remembered her that it was exactly that--the past.

It was painfully different from the cold, lonely life she now led years later, here at the gym.

Just then, the T.V. news returned from commercial. The anchor in his freshly pressed blue suit returned to the screen, and now a guest, also wearing a suit--a dark grey one-- appeared sitting next to him behind the news desk.

"Welcome back to World News Nightly's coverage of the Pokemon Champions League Tournament…

…Joining me tonight to give us his thoughts on this week's competition…is my guest, the former president of the Pokemon League Competition Committee…the honorable Mr. Charles Goodshow!"

The girl recognized this little old man as well. She had met him at one of the regional Pokemon League competitions a few years back. He looked a few years older now, but the short, elderly man still had his long white hair with matching beard.

"..Mr Goodshow, from what you've seen from the field of elite trainers during your years as president of the Pokemon League, who are some of the trainers you recommend that the people watching at home should be keep an eye on?"

The old man sort of looked like a diminutive Santa Clause as he spoke in his scraggily voice, the girl thought to herself.

"Well, obviously there are former champions, powerful gym leaders, and even Elite Four Masters battling in this competition, and their impressive reputations are enough to make people want to watch…"

The two men bantered back and forth about many of the elite celebrity trainers, debating about whether each of them could win the entire tournament. Lieutenant Surge, the brash and powerful Kanto gym leader. The gorgeous Elite Four members Lorelei, Karen, Glacia and Phoebe, each a big hit with many male fans for obvious reasons. Not to mention former league winners like Cynthia, Wallace, Drake, and of course, Lance…all of whom would be in the same town at the same time later this week, competing in the same championship for the same title!

"There are so many unbelievably powerful trainers and Pokemon due to compete in this tournament, I couldn't possibly pick a favorite!" Goodshow raved. He was obviously just as excited as every other fan.

The girl finished recklessly brushing her shoulder-length hair and sat down on the cold floor right in front of the television.

Most fans knew who these famous trainers were, but she had been lucky enough to actually meet many of these trainers during her many childhood adventures years ago. The more familiar names that were mentioned as participants, the more interested the girl became in this competition.

After a few minutes of analysis, the reporter asked Mr. Goodshow another question.

"Alright, Mr. Goodshow, we've talked at length about the stars of this competition. But what about some of the lesser-known trainers in the field? Is there anyone in particular that could surprise people this week with a strong showing?"

Goodshow continued on about several of the lesser-known trainers. He broke down their battling styles, their Pokemon, and their past accomplishments for the viewing audience.

Mr. Goodshow was like a walking, talking encyclopedia with his knowledge of every trainer.

Still lying on her hardwood bedroom floor with her head resting on his hands, the teen girl was beginning to get tired even though she had been in bed all day. She yawned. She wished the show would hurry and get to the part she wanted to see, about the fifteen year old trainer. The girl needed to try to get some actual sleep before work in the morning.

She began to frown at the thought of doing nothing but gym battles against snotty young trainers all day tomorrow, not the mention the mounds of paper work she had to get done regarding the gym's finances this week. Work was such a drag.

The girl sighed deeply and sadly. She remembered when her life used to be worth living. She had once lived a life filled with adventure, surprise and excitement, surrounded by friends. Something new and unusual around every corner…each day leading to a new journey.

But not anymore. Not since she had been forced to leave her friends all those years ago. She hated to think about that day but--

She stopped in the middle of her thought when the tournament coverage with the anchor and Goodshow continued.

This was it.

"…And finally, for fans looking for an underdog to cheer for this week, who should they watch for, Mr. Goodshow?" The anchor turned to the tiny old man as he asked the question.

The girl's turquoise eyes bugged out in shock at what she saw next. She gasped deeply, doing a double-take towards the screen, making sure she was seeing and hearing clearly.

"Well…the biggest underdog is definitely the young kid," Goodshow said, answering the reporter's question with his expert opinion.

"Ah, you must mean the youngest trainer to ever compete in this legendary tournament…

…Ash Ketchum from the town of Pallet…"

She could only stare at the young trainer's picture on the T.V. screen as it appeared at the exact moment that Goodshow mentioned him, his youthful, exuberant face staring back at her from the T.V.

The girl just sat there, dumbfounded with her mouth wide open. Her tired eyes had been shocked awake and just stared at the television as they flashed various video highlight clips of the young boy battling with his Pokemon.

Her heart began to thump hard and fast, and her breathing began to get heavier and heavier. Her cheeks felt strangely hot. She couldn't move a muscle. Was she really seeing this!? Were these big, important newsmen really talking about…Ash? Her Ash? The girl hoped this wasn't some sort of dream.

The anchor then read off some biographical information on Ketchum, much like he had done with some of the other trainers who were not as well known, so that the public could be introduced to them before seeing them on television all week.

"…At fifteen years of age, Ash Ketchum from Kanto's Pallet Town will make history later this week, when he will become the youngest trainer to ever step onto the battlefield as a participant in the Pokemon World Champions League tournament…"

The teen girl still could not believe it.

All she could do was stare in amazement at the T.V. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but restrained herself. There he was…Ash and his familiar intensity during battle. His familiar black hair peaking out from underneath his hat as he and his Pokemon were shown in action. The video highlights of Ash that the news program was using made him look incredibly heroic, in the girl's opinion.

She rubbed her eyes vigorously with her hands. This had to be a dream!

"…Ketchum has accomplished many feats during his short career, including the Orange League and Kanto Battle Frontier championships several years ago. He's also posted strong performances in the Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh Leagues in the past, as well as some great battles with some of the world's best…"

Much like many of the trainers featured on the program earlier, the teenage girl knew this trainer as well.

But this was so much different than simply running into stars like Lance, Surge, or Mr. Goodshow a few times or seeing them from afar in public.

This boy--Ash--was the same boy who stood next to her in that photo on her dresser. The boy with whom she had once shared countless adventures together as she followed him on his quest to be the greatest Pokemon trainer in the world when they were both younger.

She and Ash together. At that point in their lives the two of them were best friends and had been inseparable.

"…Recently, Ketchum has been traveling the freezing cold arctic terrain of the rugged Tundras Region located in the northern-most part of the planet. But he returned home a few months ago to his native Kanto after he earned his fiftieth career gym badge during his journey around the Tundrus League circuit.

With the required fifty badges finally in his possession, Ketchum stormed through last month's regional qualifying tournament and earned one of the coveted sixty-four spots to this week's extravaganza!"

The girl almost burst with pride when she heard of all of Ash's recent accomplishments. But that proud feeling ceased when the newsman started to voice his opinion about the young trainer.

"…However, there are many people who believe that Ketchum is simply too young and inexperienced…and his Pokemon are too weak for the teen to belong here with all these legendary trainers."

Oh man. The girl thought to herself as she watched. Good thing Ash wasn't here to hear them calling his Pokemon 'weak.' He'd be furious.

"I think Ketchum is a talented kid with a bright future," the reporter continued. "But, come on! You don't really think this kid can beat any of the top trainers in the world do you? I mean, he's only fifteen, he has never competed in a tournament of this magnitude, and his top Pokemon is a scrawny little Pikachu!"

The girl scowled at hearing this idiot criticize Ash's ability as well as his Pokemon's. What did he know about Ash? They didn't know him like she did…or used to, anyway.

She and Ash had been through so much together when they were kids, their friendship had bloomed over the years--perhaps into something more than friendship.

That is, until she had been forced to leave him and the rest of her friends to return home. Again, any excitement or happiness she felt upon seeing the boy's face on T.V. vanished and turned to black sadness when she remembered having to leave his side a few years back.

"I have seen him battle before, and the kid does have heart," Goodshow answered. "But I agree, I think Ketchum and his Pokemon are still too inexperienced to have any sort of real chance this week. He got a little lucky in the Kanto Regional Qualifying Tournament I think…"

"Oh, shut up, morons!"

The girl shouted out loud at the old man's answer. Why did everyone hate Ash so much in this tournament? They thought Ash was just lucky to get here? He had just as a chance as anyone else! But the teen tried not to dwell on the so-called experts' opinion. She believed in him even if no one else did.

The teenage girl lifted herself off of the cold floor and crawled back into her queen-sized bed. The girl wrapped herself in her bed covers, as she reminisced about her past life, before she was confined to this place. It had been over five years since she had returned home from traveling with Ash and his Pokemon on his adventures.

"How did it get to be so long ago?" She always wondered.

"…Ketchum's heart and determination are the only things really going for him. I just don't think he can handle this kind of competition," said the reporter. "I Just hope the kid knows what he's up against."

As Ash's segment finished on the television, the girl finally allowed herself to try to get her head around what she had just watched. Still in awe over seeing his face again, she nearly allowed a small smirk to creep onto her face at the T.V. commentators' lack of faith in Ash's abilities.

If Ash was anything like he was when they were both ten years old, he would find a way to prove these naysayers wrong.

"…That will wrap up this pre-Pokemon World Champions League segment of World News Nightly," the announcer said. "…Thanks to Mr. Charles Goodshow for joining us tonight!"

"Thanks for having me, Jim."

"When World News Nightly returns from commercial…we'll talk about the mysterious events that occurred at the Blackburn Island Prison earlier this week…"

The girl tuned out the television again now that their Pokemon League segment was over. She remained in her bed now thinking about Ash. She missed him dearly.

She thought about how ever since she'd left Ash to be imprisoned by the responsibilities of the gym and haunted by the loneliness of not having him with her, she had not smiled very much. She rarely ate, she slept at weird hours, she couldn't stand interacting with other people, and she confined herself to her bedroom for hours and hours at a time.

The last time she had smiled was when she spoke to Ash on the videophone maybe a year ago.

She and Ash used to talk almost everyday over the phone for the first year or so after the two split. And she had even got to see him from time to time on visits. He would beam while telling her of his latest adventure or bragging about the newest Pokemon he had captured. She would complain to him about how boring the life of a gym leader was. They would talk about old times, old friends. They'd laugh.

But for one reason or another, she and Ash started to drift apart as the weeks, months, and years started to pass by. She had definitely developed a feeling beyond friendship for Ash during their times together, which was made even more obvious to her when they were apart.

But, she couldn't tell him. She feared that their beautiful friendship could be tarnished if she ever revealed her true feelings to Ash and he did not share them. She also didn't want to interfere with his obviously bright future as an elite Pokemon trainer. Plus, she was only a child then. How could she be sure at that age exactly what she was feeling for sure…although now, seeing his face on T.V. was enough to remind her of those feelings from the past…and they were definitely real.

She never opened up to Ash about her feelings about him back then, and she naturally became sadder and sadder with each day she spent alone in the gym away from him. As her mood continued to deteriorate over time, the phone calls and weekend visits between the two youngsters became less and less frequent.

She just figured Ash forgot about her…or worse, stopped caring.

She knew, at least, that he had cared about her at one point. She thought back to that day when she, Ash and their other good friend, Brock, had split up over five years ago.

She remembered how Ash had looked at her when he realized he wouldn't be traveling with her everyday anymore. She remembered how he had told her that the two of them were meant to meet and become friends. She remembered seeing what she thought was a tear fall from Ash's glistening brown eyes just before they had gone their separate ways.

Then she started to think about tonight, and how incredible it was to see him on television after all this time. He had really done it. He had made it!

That overzealous little boy--whom she had accidentally fished out of the river and followed around everywhere after he'd destroyed her bicycle--was so close to actually accomplishing what he had originally set out to do all those years ago.

She remembered Ash always saying, "I'm going to be a Pokemon Master someday," and always she dismissed it as bravado or childish, unrealistic crazy-talk that kids often say. But, wow. He had actually made it to the big time, and at only fifteen.

"He must be so excited right now…," she said out loud to nobody, as she resisted the feeling of pride for Ash that began to creep in.

She thought long and hard about how he would nearly pass out from excitement before even local gym battles…how must he be feeling before the most prestigious tournament in the world? She thought about all the memories the two had shared together during Ash's journey.

"I need to be there."

She said almost out of nowhere, as she stared into space. She was shocked when she heard the words escape from her lips.

She repeated it in her head a few times, trying to decide whether this crazy idea she had stewing in her mind was actually real or just a delusional fantasy.

"Come on, that's stupid," the girl second-guessed. But as she thought about it more and more, the lunacy of the idea seemed to weaken.

He had always been there for her up until they'd split up years ago. She and Ash had been through so much together during their childhood that she felt like she had to be there for him now. She wanted him to know that she still cared about him. She remembered back to what she had promised herself back when she was ten years old.

"Ash will never really be alone because he has…me."

Even if he didn't need it, and even though years had passed since she had last seen Ash, she felt like she owed it to him to be there to support him in person. She had to keep her promise. It was now or never. This was the biggest moment of his training life, she had to be there with him.

She was terrified to leave her safe, dark bedroom. Her depressed and sleepy brain pleaded with her to reconsider and return to sleep.

Did she really want to confront Ash? Did she really want to put herself on the line like that? What if he didn't want her to be there? Her mind began to argue vehemently with her heart. Was she really thinking about doing this?

Finally, she made up her mind. She had to go no matter what, she concluded. She would leave for Sancterra City right away. The gravity of the situation cancelled out any awkwardness about going to see Ash out of the blue like this. No matter how crummy she felt, no matter how weird it would be. Seeing Ash on T.V. had motivated her to rise above her sadness, at least for now.

The newly-determined girl climbed out of bed once again and pulled her red hair into a messy ponytail. This was the strongest and most motivated she had felt in months. She glanced over at the digital alarm clock on her night stand.

9:49 p.m., the bright red numbers read.

She could catch an overnight flight, the girl thought. She knew she wouldn't make it for Ash's first battle, which was tomorrow, but she figured she would be better off being late than not going at all. The girl wished she would have remembered the tournament before tonight because she could have made it there earlier, but there was nothing she could do.

She squinted in the dark towards her large, walk-in closet across the room. Her suitcase was still packed from last weekend's gym leader conference in Saffron City. She had never felt motivated enough to unpack it when she had returned.

She contemplated for what felt like another hour over what she would do next. She could always close the gym for a few days…say she was going on vacation. There wouldn't be many trainers coming in this week anyway, as everyone would surely be glued to their television sets to watch the world championship.

"But what will I do or say if and when I see him? Should I hug him? Will he even talk to me? Does he even want me there? He will remember me, won't he?"

All of those thoughts and more began racing through the teenage girl's head as she prepared to take this giant risk.

"Of course he'll remember you," the girl argued with herself. "You've been through too much for him not too."

Finally, with conviction, the teen stood up and turned her bedroom lights on. She shielded her eyes, knowing that they wouldn't like the sudden blinding flash. The flood of white light washed away the darkness and revealed the true beauty of her luxurious bedroom.

The walls were painted a deep sea blue-green…the same color as her now-hopeful eyes, with white and baby-blue trim. The girl's queen-sized waterbed looked like an elegant crystal oyster shell with a glittery gold frame and white sheets and covers.

The new light also revealed that the teen's outfit matched her bedroom's watery theme. She wore a snug, white tank top with short, blue denim shorts. Her teal green-trimmed sneakers also matched the color of her eyes and her bedroom walls. Her once fiery red-orange hair had softened with age and now was a beautiful, soft copper color.

The girl gathered her backpack, and took inventory of her money and supplies. Before she zipped her pack back up, she ran out of the room and to the gym's Pokemon Center equipment room. She entered the room, and grabbed the six red and white metal spheres out of the machine, and returned to her room.

For at least a moment, the immense burden of her perpetual sadness seemed lifted by her loyalty to her friend. No matter how she felt, she knew she had to do this.

"Come on, now…," she whispered to herself confidently as she took up her pack, turned off her light, and exited the room.

"He needs you."

The girl thought about the statement she'd just said to herself as she made her way down her dimly-lit hallway. She corrected herself sheepishly as she made her way out the front door and into the dark, cold night.

"Or…maybe you need him."

..............


Chapter banner pic from: avidimages.com