u/Fine-Temperature-595

I'm not a professional writer by any means so I originally thought an AI polish would elevate my writing to a new level which in some ways it did, but it also removed the personality from the pages and the generic perfect writing left readers unable to connect with my MC. So I went back to my original drafts and rewrote Chapter 1. It was difficult but a massive help for me was switching from third person to first person as this forced me to actually get inside my character's head instead of describing him from the outside. Then took my time and worked on finding my own voice, messy and imperfect as it is. I'm just someone who loves Pokémon and wants to tell a story about what it would actually cost to leave home at 18 and do this. That's all. 

But as always, please may I have your honest feedback on craft, plot, character, worldbuilding, prose and general vibe ❤️ 

Chapter One: Win the Morning

I counted down from five and turned the hot tap off, the warmth vanished instantly. I stood there for a second anyway, water dripping and steam curling around me. Then, I took a deep breath and stepped out.

I grabbed the soft white towel, dried my face, ruffled my hair and wrapped it around my waist. The mirror was misted up so I wiped it clear with my palm and looked.

Dark hair, green eyes, freckles. Nothing about it said champion. Not yet.

I took my comb and brushed my hair back.

Who would look back at me the next time I stood here? Would that version recognise this one?

I pushed open my bathroom window and the morning air came in cold, stinging my teeth and fogging my breath. Surely Spring should have fixed this by now? Though Winter had been particularly stubborn this year, but not even it got a vote on today.

I closed my eyes and let the chill anchor me. Win the morning, win the day. That was my secret. Easier to say than to live and harder to keep than to start. But without it I wouldn't be standing here.

Beyond the glass Pallet Town lay fast asleep, softened into silhouettes. Nothing solid yet except a thin smear of orange dragging itself along the horizon. Even the resident Dodrio was still quiet, though his call would hit any minute. I inhaled until it hurt. Whatever waited beyond today, there was no backing out of it.

I turned from the window and walked back into my room where everything was perfectly in its place. My outfit was laid out on the corner of the bed, exactly where I'd left it the night before. Black jeans and a white T. Worn boot with laces already threaded. Then on top of it all, folded with more care than anything else in the room, was Dad's jacket.

It was old. The kind of worn-in that couldn't be bought. The collar had softened from years of use and the once deep green had faded unevenly where the sun had caught it on long roads I'd never walked. It was slightly too big across the shoulders still, but less than it used to be. One day it would fit perfectly.

I hung up my towel and got dressed.

A small pile of rejected options sat on the chair, boots I'd second-guessed and put back. Exam notes stacked on the shelf. I'd learned early that a messy space made a messy mind and I couldn't afford either. Not today and not ever, really.

Only the desk was a bit messy, though as I would tell Mom “organised chaos”. A creased map of Kanto lay spread across it, its folds worn soft from being opened and closed too many times to count. The corners had started to fray. I knew every route on it by fingertip. My backpack waited on the floor beside it, packed tight with an old fishing rod jammed awkwardly from one side. If fate denied me a water starter, I'd catch one myself.

I picked up my red and white cap, flipped it backwards and tugged it down until the brim found its usual spot at the back of my neck.

At year ten they give you a choice. Most kids took the standard path. University prep, trade qualifications or civil service. All sensible choices and a future you could explain at a dinner table without anyone going quiet.

The trainer path was different. Kanto needed trainers the way armies needed soldiers and the right people always seemed to find their way to the sign-up sheet, despite what it could cost you. Death or Glory, or both.

I raised my hand anyway.

Then spent three nights staring at the ceiling wondering if I'd lost my mind. I hadn't told anyone that part. Not Mom. Not Dad. Especially not Dad.

Two years of theory and practical followed. Assessments that thinned the field again and again, each one quieter than the last as more names disappeared from the list. From Pallet Town High, only five of us made it through final selection. Five.

I still wasn't entirely sure I deserved to be one of them.

Most selected trainers from towns without gyms had to travel to the nearest city to be officiated. For us that would have meant Viridian City and Giovanni with ground type starters. And no complaints there, a Cubone or Phanpy would have been awesome honestly.

But we had Professor Oak which changed everything.

He commissioned new trainers in groups of three, three official trainers licenses and three Pokémon. From our Kanto batch of five, the first three had gone out a fortnight ago. The order was based on results, highest scores first, which left me and one other still waiting.

I'd studied every commissioning I could find records on. Oak's starter choices were never random, the sets fit together like pieces of a larger game. Once, years ago, a group had walked out with three Eevees, but I pushed the thought aside. That kind of luck only led to disappointment if you started expecting it.

Oak's reputation reached far beyond Pallet Town and far beyond Kanto. People crossed oceans for a chance at one of his starters. Outsiders waited years for a slot. I was local which helped. Mom working at the lab helped more.

The starters for the first Pallet three from our class were Exeggcute, Staryu and Vulpix. Their unique puzzle was not obvious at first glance, but clever if you knew what to look for. It seemed like Oak had decided that these trainers needed patience. Strength that didn't arrive quickly, but didn't leave easily either.

I'd wondered what that said about them and I wondered more what today's set would say about me.

If I'd been in that group with first pick, the Staryu would have been mine. No hesitation. Water covered the most ground early. Viridian, Pewter, Mt. Moon, it even levelled the playing field in Cerulean too. Also, Staryu's psychic affinity was rare in Kanto, another edge most trainers overlooked. A smart first move on paper. But it wasn't just tactics. Something about the idea of a water type had always pulled at me in a way I couldn't fully explain. Maybe it was growing up watching Dad's Gyarados glide through the Pallet Town shore break or Mom's Kingdra dancing in the low tide rock pools on a moonlit night. Or maybe it was just instinct.

I sat down at the desk and traced the route to Viridian with my fingertip.

What puzzle would it be this time? I'd pressed Mom for hints, subtle at first then less so. She hadn't given me much. Just this after days of badgering:

"The core elements haven't changed since the last group. Now leave me alone before you get me fired!"

I knew I could get her to crack eventually.

So Fire, water and grass. That was enough for me to plan around. Water would usually be my first choice so long as it could fight on land. It would be strong against the early gyms and useful long after the badges were earned. Surfing between islands, diving in open water, crossing rivers, scaling waterfalls. The list went on. Basically, it unlocked the map and with it the ability to catch rarer Pokémon hiding where other trainers couldn’t reach. Not to mention a great counter to pesky fire types and also just cool overall. What more can I say.

Grass had its appeal too though with an even better early gym type advantage and the longer a fight dragged on the better it got, draining opponents slowly and punishing anyone who underestimated it. Solar energy meant natural regeneration even mid-battle and the biggest advantage, in my opinion, is the status toolkit that could end fights before they properly started. Period.

Then of course, fire. Far from a deal breaker. Every serious trainer needed fire somewhere on their team eventually, that was just straight facts. Fire hit hard and fast, forced opponents to react first and one harsh burn was usually all it took to end a match. There was something honest about that kind of power.

But the problem was the road ahead. Viridian meant Giovanni and Ground, Pewter meant Brock and Rock and Cerulean came soon after with Misty and Water. None of it was kind to fire types. At least the Viridian Forest would be a breeze, bug types folding to fire like paper, but still it was objectively the harder road.

But to be fair, I wasn't helpless. If fire was what I got, I'd build around it. Catch what I needed and cover what I couldn't. Teams were built, not handed out and I'd spent two years learning exactly how to do that.

So I reckon I'd make any starter work.

I pulled out my phone and the lockscreen lit up. A pic of Mom and Dad when they were trainers somewhere on the road, years before I existed. Dad's jacket visible at the edge of the frame looking exactly as worn as it did now hanging off my shoulders, deep green and sun caught. They were laughing at something outside the shot. I'd asked Mom once what was so funny. She'd just smiled and said I'd understand one day. I hoped it wasn’t anything sexual, as that’s just gross coming from them. But I think actually they were so happy because they were free from the fast paced routine an office or other ordinary job brought, another cool thing choosing the trainer path brought. I checked the time: 06:21, it was still too early to leave so I let my mind drift to the question that had been nagging at me longer than the starter puzzle had.

Who would the other two trainers be? I knew one was from my school, but results were confidential, so it was hard to know who made the cut. I wasn't exactly close enough to anyone to ask either. The third would be a wildcard, probably some rich kid or someone with connections who had worked their way up the waiting list.

Whoever they were, would the three of us travel together or split off before the dust had even settled? Part of me hoped they'd want to stick together. Not that I'd say that out loud.

Every season threw up new names, trainers who rose fast and burned bright and those who faded into nothing before anyone learned them. Oak's reputation drew candidates from across Kanto and beyond and plenty of those outsiders had gone on to do remarkable things. But local graduates, kids who had grown up in Pallet Town's shadow and earned their commission on home soil, had never really broken through. Not until last season anyway.

Red Ryans, Leaf Dawn and Blue Oak.

A single year on the road and already they were legends, spoken with the kind of certainty that made you wonder if they'd ever really been beginners at all. I'd thought about why they'd been different more than once and kept landing on the same answer. They'd stuck together from the start.

Already this week one of Viridian's newest graduates had died in the Viridian Forest. He was commissioned by Giovanni himself and started with a Diglett, perhaps not the strongest starter but still, he had completed the full two-year programme like all of us and despite all that preparation and knowledge, was found dead three days into his journey. The report said a wild Pinsir tore through his small under trained team. The rangers found him alone and off the marked road. Whether he lost his way or thought he could handle it, we would never know. Another secret owned by the forest.

The story moved through Pallet in hushed voices like a warning passed hand to hand. The world out there was beautiful, rolling hills and forests alive with sound and rivers as bright as glass. But beauty didn't mean mercy. Pokémon could be partners and protectors but they could also be teeth and claws and weight crashing down on a single mistake.

One mistake was enough.

But that would not be me, I would not die before my journey even began.

If I treated this world with the respect it demanded, trained smart and never mistook confidence for invincibility, then maybe one day my name would echo through Kanto the way Red's and Leaf's and Blue's did.

Maybe louder.

The Dodrio's cry cut through the morning air as my phone chimed.

06:30.

I swung my backpack onto my shoulders, tightened the straps and took one last look around the room, lingering just a moment. Then I pulled the door shut behind me.

The stairs creaked beneath my feet as I took them two at a time. The coat hooks at the bottom near the entrance hall were overloaded as always, Dad's old riding gloves piled on top of each other and our surfboards leaned against the wall beside them, waxed and salt-stained from the last session. Nobody had rinsed them down yet. Oops that was definitely my fault and I’d like to say “unlike me”, but in my defence, I’d been too distracted with preparing to become a trainer and all so I’m sure Dad would forgive me.

I turned into the lounge. The L-shaped couch sat in the corner, wide enough for all three of us to stretch out on movie nights without negotiating space. The cushions had long since moulded to their usual positions. Mom's Pokémon Care Quarterly lay face-down on the armrest closest to the window with a pen tucked into the spine. A half-finished puzzle covered the coffee table, the border done but the middle still a mess of loose pieces nobody had touched in weeks. Above it, a Pokémon League fixture schedule was pinned to the wall, with a few results circled in Dad's handwriting.

The kitchen light spilled through the open archway ahead, gentle gold holding back the grey dawn pressing at the windows. I walked toward it. The kitchen felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with temperature. I'd pictured this morning a hundred times but seeing it now felt different. Sharper almost, like the world had decided to pay attention.

Mom stood at the counter in her dressing gown, both hands wrapped around a steaming mug. Dad stood at the stove, flipping eggs in the pan. The smell of butter and coffee filled the room.

Mom glanced up at the knock of my boots on the wooden floor. She stopped. Her eyes went to the jacket first.

She set her mug down, crossed the kitchen in three steps and pulled me into a hug before I could say anything. She practically almost squeezed me to death, but I let her as I would certainly miss these hugs. When she eventually stepped back, she looked at me properly and put both hands on my shoulders.

"Just look at you."

"Thank you, Mom." I gave her hand a squeeze.

Then she cleared her throat and turned back toward the counter. "Just in time. Before your father burns breakfast trying to impress you."

"I heard that," Dad said, not turning from the pan. "And for the record, this is deliberate Sally. High heat, precision cooking."

"It's just eggs David," said Mom, rolling her eyes and winking at me.

"It's my eggs."

Dad turned from the stove and saw me properly for the first time. He went still for a second, then he smiled.

"That jacket fits you perfectly, son."

"Thanks, Dad." I didn't correct him.

I pulled out a stool at the kitchen counter and set my bag on the floor, the thud cutting through the quiet. The strap slipped from my fingers a second too quickly.

"All packed up and ready to go, huh?"

I nodded, and he turned back to the stove, sliding the eggs onto a plate with his usual flair before setting it down in front of me. His hand came to rest on my shoulder.

"The day's finally here." There was pride in his voice, "Time to make the Knight name mean something again, my boy."

"Yeah." I rubbed the back of my neck, my gaze drifting without landing anywhere. The room felt tighter than it should have, the walls closer, the table crowding in, everything pressing just a little too near.

Then Aurora jumped up.

She landed on the table in front of me with the easy confidence of a Pokémon who had never once been told she wasn't allowed up there. The Flareon's flame-bright fur caught the kitchen light. Then she hopped down into my lap, turned twice and settled in her usual spot.

I put my hand on her back without thinking. She was always warm and her fur was so soft and she never came with terms and conditions, just unconditional love.

"Hey, girl," I whispered and kissed her head.

Mom smiled into her coffee. "She knows you're leaving."

I looked up to meet her gaze and didn’t look away this time. "I won't lie, I'm nervous." I paused, my hand steady on Aurora's fur. "What if I fail?"

Mom set her coffee down, moved to the counter and came back with a fresh mug, pulling a stool beside mine. She pressed it into my free hand. The ceramic was warm through my fingers. "You could never disappoint us," she said. "Not ever."

She leaned close. "All you need to do is do your best. Be kind and remain humble, but most importantly, stay true to who you are, inside. You have a good heart Luke." Her smile held. "That is already enough."

Then her expression shifted and she set her mug down gently. "Just promise me you'll be careful. I don't believe there are any truly evil Pokémon." She held my gaze. "But there are evil people."

Dad set his mug down too and turned to face us properly. "The Poké Ball changed everything," he said. "It gave us the ability to capture, tame and protect ourselves from the most powerful creatures we share this world with." His jaw tightened. "But it also gave people the ability to use those same creatures for their own gain. That turned out to be the far more dangerous." He looked at me steadily. "We never made it to the Champion's seat, but we saw enough out there."

My eyes drifted to the wall above the counter. Two framed badge displays caught the light. Dad's held seven Kanto badges with one slot empty where Cerulean should have been. Mom's sat beside it with six badges, Saffron and Fuchsia missing and beneath both frames lay a single pair of matching Johto badges, side by side.

I'd grown up looking at those frames without really seeing them. Mom and Dad had stood where I was about to stand, walked those roads and faced things I hadn't even learned to name yet.

"I know, I have a lot to live up to," I said, more to myself than anyone else.

Dad grunted softly. "No, Luke," he said. "You don't."

Mom squeezed my hand. "You just have to live."

But her smile then went somewhere I couldn't follow. "We didn't stop because we failed. We stopped because I fell pregnant with you." She glanced at Dad, a look passing between them. "That changed everything. We didn't want you growing up without one of us."

She drew in a slow breath. "So we settled in Pallet Town and stepped aside, leaving the trainers life behind."

Dad rested his forearms on the table. "It was a hard decision. But we'd nearly died more times than I care to remember and not just from wild Pokémon. Team Rocket run-ins were never just battles. They were life or death."

Mom nodded. "The League puts weight on its licensed trainers, Luke. Once you start earning badges that weight gets heavier. You'll be expected to respond when things go wrong nearby." She hesitated. "But you don't have to do this for us."

I shook my head. "I'm not." I met her gaze again and held Aurora tight. "I want to do this. For myself. And because the world needs people willing to try."

Her fingers closed around my wrist. "That was our reasoning too." Her voice wavered despite herself. "Just don't try to be a hero with Team Rocket okay. They don't play fair at all." She swallowed. "We lost so many friends. Good trainers and good Pokémon." Her words faltered and didn't recover.

Dad placed his hand over Mom's then looked at me without blinking. "She saved my life," he said. "After my seventh badge I thought I was ready to lead a squad against Team Rocket. They were hunting Articuno. If they got their hands on a legendary it would be over for Kanto. The League even backed my plan and sent two gym leaders, their members and an even an Elite to fight alongside us."

His eyes lifted, fixed on something far beyond the kitchen walls. "I thought I could handle it. I had strong Pokémon and experienced trainers who trusted me. We were practically the front line of the League for quite some time already." He paused and looked back at Mom and I. "But I was out of my depth and things went very wrong that day."

He exhaled through his nose and set his shoulders.

"It was an all out battle. Team Rocket had Articuno trapped with fire, trying to break her will. We managed to free her, not that she needed our help come to think of it, but she started rampaging. She froze the battlefield solid. It didn't matter who you were, friend or foe. The ice didn't care." His throat worked. "The rest of my squad never made it out and I lost most of my team that day, including my starter, Arcanine."

In my lap, Aurora had gone still. No purring. Just her nose pressed against my wrist.

"I would have died too if your mother and her Fearow hadn't dragged me out in time."

He leaned forward. "I carry that with me every day. I don't want you making the same mistakes." His voice hardened. "My advice would be never underestimate anything. Ever."

I nodded and lifted my mug. The coffee burned the roof of my mouth but I welcomed it.

Dad exhaled slowly. "Team Rocket has only grown stronger since then. Taking whatever power they can reach. If they ever get control of a legendary, the damage won't stop at one town." His fingers curled against the table.

Then his gaze softened. "But none of that is worth your life."

I drew a careful breath and nodded. "I understand. I'll be careful." My mouth was dry, so I lifted the mug again instead. "I promise."

The empty pan hissed on the stove. Nothing else moved.

Then Dad nudged the plate toward me. "Good. I wouldn't be much of a father if I didn't warn you." He let out a breath, the hard lines of his face easing into something older and quieter. "But the road isn't only danger. There's adventure out there too. Friendship, beauty and maybe even a bit of love." He winked at Mom. "Moments that will stay with you forever. It's a life your mother and I miss every single day."

Mom nodded. "And you get to experience it all for the first time." She paused, turning her empty mug slowly in her hands. "And my favourite part was actually the Pokémon themselves. Not the battles or the badges, though those are cool too, if you win." She smiled. "But the relationships you build with your team is like no other."

"They become family," she said, stroking Aurora.  "Every single one of them."

I'd never heard her say it quite like that before. Aurora's purr filled the space between us.

"You're getting one today that's been raised from an egg with basic training done and some of the hard edges already smoothed off. That helps at the start." Her mouth curved. "But they still have their own personalities with their own opinions about things. You can't train that out of them and you wouldn't want to."

"My starter was a Spearow, Arrow," she said. "A hardheaded, stubborn, absolutely furious little bird. The Flying type gym leader of Celadon at the time gave him to me the day I was commissioned." She laughed softly at the memory. "He hated me for weeks. Wouldn't listen for a second. Wouldn't come when I called. One time he flew straight into a tree rather than follow an instruction he disagreed with."

"But I didn't give up on him." Her voice steadied. "And eventually, he stopped waiting for me to."

She looked at me. "When he finally trusted me, really trusted me, we were unstoppable. That bird would have flown through fire for me." She paused. "He did, actually, more than once."

The kitchen was quiet for a moment.

Then Dad cleared his throat.

"I started at Cinnabar Island," he said. "Blaine was a lot younger then. Barely looked old enough to run a gym." A faint smile crossed his face at the memory. "He placed a Growlithe in my hands and told me to take good care of him."

His expression shifted.

"I didn't understand what he meant at the time." He looked down at his hands. "I thought he was just saying what gym leaders say. Something ceremonial to make me bond to my new Pokémon. Little did I know that Pokémon would become my best friend. I named him Ember." He said it quietly, like he didn't say it often. "And he was the most loyal Pokémon I have ever known. And in the end, it cost him his life."

He was quiet for a long moment until Mom went over to him and put her arms round him.

"But that's part of it too," he said finally. "Being a trainer comes at many costs and what I think is the worst part is that some of your Pokémon will die.” He met my eyes. "And when it happens, there is nothing in the world that prepares you for it."

"But as my mother told me, it’s better to have loved and to have lost, than to have never loved at all." He exhaled slowly, the weight in his voice lifting just slightly. "And it’s true. Strap in for the trainer-life rollercoaster ride with the best and worst times of your life. The highest highs you will ever feel and the lowest lows. Life altering moments that stay with you so long they stop feeling like memories and start feeling like part of who you are. It all comes together in a life well lived."

He looked at Mom.

She looked back at him.

"Go out and find your place in this world, my son," Dad said.

I took Dad's words to heart. I would find my place. As a trainer. As a human. Someone worth the Knight name.

And maybe, even as a Pokémon Master.

I'm not a professional writer by any means so I originally thought an AI polish would elevate my writing to a new level which in some ways it did, but it also removed the personality from the pages and the generic perfect writing left readers unable to connect with my MC. So I went back to my original drafts and rewrote Chapter 1. It was difficult but a massive help for me was switching from third person to first person as this forced me to actually get inside my character's head instead of describing him from the outside. Then took my time and worked on finding my own voice, messy and imperfect as it is. I'm just someone who loves Pokémon and wants to tell a story about what it would actually cost to leave home at 18 and do this. That's all. 

But as always, please may I have your honest feedback on craft, plot, character, worldbuilding, prose and general vibe ❤️ 

Chapter One: Win the Morning

I counted down from five and turned the hot tap off and the warmth vanished instantly. I stood there for a second anyway, water dripping and steam curling around me. Then, I took a deep breath and stepped out.

I grabbed the soft white towel, dried my face, ruffled my hair and wrapped it around my waist. The mirror was misted up so I wiped it clear with my palm and looked.

Dark hair, green eyes, freckles. Nothing about it said champion. Not yet.

I took my comb and brushed my hair back.

Who would look back at me the next time I stood here? Would that version recognise this one?

I pushed open my bathroom window and the morning air came in cold, stinging my teeth and fogging my breath. Surely Spring should have fixed this by now? Though Winter had been particularly stubborn this year, but not even it got a vote on today.

I closed my eyes and let the chill anchor me*. Win the morning, win the day*. That was my secret. Easier to say than to live and harder to keep than to start. But without it I wouldn't be standing here.

Beyond the glass Pallet Town lay fast asleep, softened into silhouettes*.* Nothing solid yet except a thin smear of orange dragging itself along the horizon. Even the resident Dodrio was still quiet, though his call would hit any minute. I inhaled until it hurt. Whatever waited beyond today, there was no backing out of it.

I turned from the window and walked back into my room where everything was perfectly in its place. My outfit was laid out on the corner of the bed, exactly where I'd left it the night before. Black jeans and a white T. Worn boot with laces already threaded. Then on top of it all, folded with more care than anything else in the room, was Dad's jacket.

It was old. The kind of worn-in that couldn't be bought. The collar had softened from years of use and the once deep green had faded unevenly where the sun had caught it on long roads I'd never walked. It was slightly too big across the shoulders still, but less than it used to be. One day it would fit perfectly.

I hung up my towel and got dressed.

A small pile of rejected options sat on the chair, boots I'd second-guessed and put back. Exam notes stacked on the shelf. I'd learned early that a messy space made a messy mind and I couldn't afford either. Not today and not ever, really.

Only the desk was a bit messy, though as I would tell Mom “organised chaos”. A creased map of Kanto lay spread across it, its folds worn soft from being opened and closed too many times to count. The corners had started to fray. I knew every route on it by fingertip. My backpack waited on the floor beside it, packed tight with an old fishing rod jammed awkwardly from one side. If fate denied me a water starter, I'd catch one myself.

I picked up my red and white cap, flipped it backwards and tugged it down until the brim found its usual spot at the back of my neck.

At year ten they give you a choice. Most kids took the standard path. University prep, trade qualifications or civil service. All sensible choices and a future you could explain at a dinner table without anyone going quiet.

The trainer path was different. Kanto needed trainers the way armies needed soldiers and the right people always seemed to find their way to the sign-up sheet, despite what it could cost you. Death or Glory, or both.

I raised my hand anyway.

Then spent three nights staring at the ceiling wondering if I'd lost my mind. I hadn't told anyone that part. Not Mom. Not Dad. Especially not Dad.

Two years of theory and practical followed. Assessments that thinned the field again and again, each one quieter than the last as more names disappeared from the list. From Pallet Town High, only five of us made it through final selection. Five.

I still wasn't entirely sure I deserved to be one of them.

Most selected trainers from towns without gyms had to travel to the nearest city to be officiated. For us that would have meant Viridian City and Giovanni with ground type starters. And no complaints there, a Cubone or Phanpy would have been awesome honestly.

But we had Professor Oak which changed everything.

He commissioned new trainers in groups of three, three official trainers licenses and three Pokémon. From our Kanto batch of five, the first three had gone out a fortnight ago. The order was based on results, highest scores first, which left me and one other still waiting.

I'd studied every commissioning I could find records on. Oak's starter choices were never random, the sets fit together like pieces of a larger game. Once, years ago, a group had walked out with three Eevees, but I pushed the thought aside. That kind of luck only led to disappointment if you started expecting it.

Oak's reputation reached far beyond Pallet Town and far beyond Kanto. People crossed oceans for a chance at one of his starters. Outsiders waited years for a slot. I was local which helped. Mom working at the lab helped more.

The starters for the first Pallet three from our class were Exeggcute, Staryu and Vulpix. Their unique puzzle was not obvious at first glance, but clever if you knew what to look for. It seemed like Oak had decided that these trainers needed patience. Strength that didn't arrive quickly, but didn't leave easily either.

I'd wondered what that said about them and I wondered more what today's set would say about me.

If I'd been in that group with first pick, the Staryu would have been mine. No hesitation. Water covered the most ground early. Viridian, Pewter, Mt. Moon, it even levelled the playing field in Cerulean too. Also, Staryu's psychic affinity was rare in Kanto, another edge most trainers overlooked. A smart first move on paper. But it wasn't just tactics. Something about the idea of a water type had always pulled at me in a way I couldn't fully explain. Maybe it was growing up watching Dad's Gyarados glide through the Pallet Town shore break or Mom's Kingdra dancing in the low tide rock pools on a moonlit night. Or maybe it was just instinct.

I sat down at the desk and traced the route to Viridian with my fingertip.

What puzzle would it be this time? I'd pressed Mom for hints, subtle at first then less so. She hadn't given me much. Just this after days of badgering:

"The core elements haven't changed since the last group. Now leave me alone before you get me fired!"

I knew I could get her to crack eventually.

So Fire, water and grass. That was enough for me to plan around. Water would usually be my first choice so long as it could fight on land. It would be strong against the early gyms and useful long after the badges were earned. Surfing between islands, diving in open water, crossing rivers, scaling waterfalls. The list went on. Basically, it unlocked the map and with it the ability to catch rarer Pokémon hiding where other trainers couldn’t reach. Not to mention a great counter to pesky fire types and also just cool overall. What more can I say.

Grass had its appeal too though with an even better early gym type advantage and the longer a fight dragged on the better it got, draining opponents slowly and punishing anyone who underestimated it. Solar energy meant natural regeneration even mid-battle and the biggest advantage, in my opinion, is the status toolkit that could end fights before they properly started. Period.

Then of course, fire. Far from a deal breaker. Every serious trainer needed fire somewhere on their team eventually, that was just straight facts. Fire hit hard and fast, forced opponents to react first and one harsh burn was usually all it took to end a match. There was something honest about that kind of power.

But the problem was the road ahead. Viridian meant Giovanni and Ground, Pewter meant Brock and Rock and Cerulean came soon after with Misty and Water. None of it was kind to fire types. At least the Viridian Forest would be a breeze, bug types folding to fire like paper, but still it was objectively the harder road.

But to be fair, I wasn't helpless. If fire was what I got, I'd build around it. Catch what I needed and cover what I couldn't. Teams were built, not handed out and I'd spent two years learning exactly how to do that.

So I reckon I'd make any starter work.

I pulled out my phone and the lockscreen lit up. A pic of Mom and Dad when they were trainers somewhere on the road, years before I existed. Dad's jacket visible at the edge of the frame looking exactly as worn as it did now hanging off my shoulders, deep green and sun caught. They were laughing at something outside the shot. I'd asked Mom once what was so funny. She'd just smiled and said I'd understand one day. I hoped it wasn’t anything sexual, as that’s just gross coming from them. But I think actually they were so happy because they were free from the fast paced routine an office or other ordinary job brought, another cool thing choosing the trainer path brought. I checked the time: 06:21, it was still too early to leave so I let my mind drift to the question that had been nagging at me longer than the starter puzzle had.

Who would the other two trainers be? I knew one was from my school, but results were confidential, so it was hard to know who made the cut. I wasn't exactly close enough to anyone to ask either. The third would be a wildcard, probably some rich kid or someone with connections who had worked their way up the waiting list.

Whoever they were, would the three of us travel together or split off before the dust had even settled? Part of me hoped they'd want to stick together. Not that I'd say that out loud.

Every season threw up new names, trainers who rose fast and burned bright and those who faded into nothing before anyone learned them. Oak's reputation drew candidates from across Kanto and beyond and plenty of those outsiders had gone on to do remarkable things. But local graduates, kids who had grown up in Pallet Town's shadow and earned their commission on home soil, had never really broken through. Not until last season anyway.

Red Ryans, Leaf Dawn and Blue Oak.

A single year on the road and already they were legends, spoken with the kind of certainty that made you wonder if they'd ever really been beginners at all. I'd thought about why they'd been different more than once and kept landing on the same answer. They'd stuck together from the start.

Already this week one of Viridian's newest graduates had died in the Viridian Forest. He was commissioned by Giovanni himself and started with a Diglett, perhaps not the strongest starter but still, he had completed the full two-year programme like all of us and despite all that preparation and knowledge, was found dead three days into his journey. The report said a wild Pinsir tore through his small under trained team. The rangers found him alone and off the marked road. Whether he lost his way or thought he could handle it, we would never know. Another secret owned by the forest.

The story moved through Pallet in hushed voices like a warning passed hand to hand. The world out there was beautiful, rolling hills and forests alive with sound and rivers as bright as glass. But beauty didn't mean mercy. Pokémon could be partners and protectors but they could also be teeth and claws and weight crashing down on a single mistake.

One mistake was enough.

But that would not be me, I would not die before my journey even began.

If I treated this world with the respect it demanded, trained smart and never mistook confidence for invincibility, then maybe one day my name would echo through Kanto the way Red's and Leaf's and Blue's did.

Maybe louder.

The Dodrio's cry cut through the morning air as my phone chimed.

06:30.

I swung my backpack onto my shoulders, tightened the straps and took one last look around the room, lingering just a moment. Then I pulled the door shut behind me.

The stairs creaked beneath my feet as I took them two at a time. The coat hooks at the bottom near the entrance hall were overloaded as always, Dad's old riding gloves piled on top of each other and our surfboards leaned against the wall beside them, waxed and salt-stained from the last session. Nobody had rinsed them down yet. Oops that was definitely my fault and I’d like to say “unlike me”, but in my defence, I’d been too distracted with preparing to become a trainer and all so I’m sure Dad would forgive me.

I turned into the lounge. The L-shaped couch sat in the corner, wide enough for all three of us to stretch out on movie nights without negotiating space. The cushions had long since moulded to their usual positions. Mom's Pokémon Care Quarterly lay face-down on the armrest closest to the window with a pen tucked into the spine. A half-finished puzzle covered the coffee table, the border done but the middle still a mess of loose pieces nobody had touched in weeks. Above it, a Pokémon League fixture schedule was pinned to the wall, with a few results circled in Dad's handwriting.

The kitchen light spilled through the open archway ahead, gentle gold holding back the grey dawn pressing at the windows. I walked toward it. The kitchen felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with temperature. I'd pictured this morning a hundred times but seeing it now felt different. Sharper almost, like the world had decided to pay attention.

Mom stood at the counter in her dressing gown, both hands wrapped around a steaming mug. Dad stood at the stove, flipping eggs in the pan. The smell of butter and coffee filled the room.

Mom glanced up at the knock of my boots on the wooden floor. She stopped. Her eyes went to the jacket first.

She set her mug down, crossed the kitchen in three steps and pulled me into a hug before I could say anything. She practically almost squeezed me to death, but I let her as I would certainly miss these hugs. When she eventually stepped back, she looked at me properly and put both hands on my shoulders.

"Just look at you."

"Thank you, Mom." I gave her hand a squeeze.

Then she cleared her throat and turned back toward the counter. "Just in time. Before your father burns breakfast trying to impress you."

"I heard that," Dad said, not turning from the pan. "And for the record, this is deliberate Sally. High heat, precision cooking."

"It's just eggs David," said Mom, rolling her eyes and winking at me.

"It's my eggs."

Dad turned from the stove and saw me properly for the first time. He went still for a second, then he smiled.

"That jacket fits you perfectly, son."

"Thanks, Dad." I didn't correct him.

I pulled out a stool at the kitchen counter and set my bag on the floor, the thud cutting through the quiet. The strap slipped from my fingers a second too quickly.

"All packed up and ready to go, huh?"

I nodded, and he turned back to the stove, sliding the eggs onto a plate with his usual flair before setting it down in front of me. His hand came to rest on my shoulder.

"The day's finally here." There was pride in his voice, "Time to make the Knight name mean something again, my boy."

"Yeah." I rubbed the back of my neck, my gaze drifting without landing anywhere. The room felt tighter than it should have, the walls closer, the table crowding in, everything pressing just a little too near.

Then Aurora jumped up.

She landed on the table in front of me with the easy confidence of a Pokémon who had never once been told she wasn't allowed up there. The Flareon's flame-bright fur caught the kitchen light. Then she hopped down into my lap, turned twice and settled in her usual spot.

I put my hand on her back without thinking. She was always warm and her fur was so soft and she never came with terms and conditions, just unconditional love.

"Hey, girl," I whispered and kissed her head.

Mom smiled into her coffee. "She knows you're leaving."

I looked up to meet her gaze and didn’t look away this time**.** "I won't lie, I'm nervous." I paused, my hand steady on Aurora's fur. "What if I fail?"

Mom set her coffee down, moved to the counter and came back with a fresh mug, pulling a stool beside mine. She pressed it into my free hand. The ceramic was warm through my fingers. "You could never disappoint us," she said. "Not ever."

She leaned close. "All you need to do is do your best. Be kind and remain humble, but most importantly, stay true to who you are, inside. You have a good heart Luke." Her smile held. "That is already enough."

Then her expression shifted and she set her mug down gently. "Just promise me you'll be careful. I don't believe there are any truly evil Pokémon." She held my gaze. "But there are evil people."

Dad set his mug down too and turned to face us properly. "The Poké Ball changed everything," he said. "It gave us the ability to capture, tame and protect ourselves from the most powerful creatures we share this world with." His jaw tightened. "But it also gave people the ability to use those same creatures for their own gain. That turned out to be the far more dangerous." He looked at me steadily. "We never made it to the Champion's seat, but we saw enough out there."

My eyes drifted to the wall above the counter. Two framed badge displays caught the light. Dad's held seven Kanto badges with one slot empty where Cerulean should have been. Mom's sat beside it with six badges, Saffron and Fuchsia missing and beneath both frames lay a single pair of matching Johto badges, side by side.

I'd grown up looking at those frames without really seeing them. Mom and Dad had stood where I was about to stand, walked those roads and faced things I hadn't even learned to name yet.

"I know, I have a lot to live up to," I said, more to myself than anyone else.

Dad grunted softly. "No, Luke," he said. "You don't."

Mom squeezed my hand. "You just have to live."

But her smile then went somewhere I couldn't follow. "We didn't stop because we failed. We stopped because I fell pregnant with you." She glanced at Dad, a look passing between them. "That changed everything. We didn't want you growing up without one of us."

She drew in a slow breath*.* "So we settled in Pallet Town and stepped aside, leaving the trainers life behind."

Dad rested his forearms on the table. "It was a hard decision. But we'd nearly died more times than I care to remember and not just from wild Pokémon. Team Rocket run-ins were never just battles. They were life or death."

Mom nodded. "The League puts weight on its licensed trainers, Luke. Once you start earning badges that weight gets heavier. You'll be expected to respond when things go wrong nearby." She hesitated. "But you don't have to do this for us."

I shook my head. "I'm not." I met her gaze again and held Aurora tight. "I want to do this. For myself. And because the world needs people willing to try."

Her fingers closed around my wrist. "That was our reasoning too." Her voice wavered despite herself. "Just don't try to be a hero with Team Rocket okay. They don't play fair at all." She swallowed. "We lost so many friends. Good trainers and good Pokémon." Her words faltered and didn't recover.

Dad placed his hand over Mom's then looked at me without blinking. "She saved my life," he said. "After my seventh badge I thought I was ready to lead a squad against Team Rocket. They were hunting Articuno. If they got their hands on a legendary it would be over for Kanto. The League even backed my plan and sent two gym leaders, their members and an even an Elite to fight alongside us."

His eyes lifted, fixed on something far beyond the kitchen walls. "I thought I could handle it. I had strong Pokémon and experienced trainers who trusted me. We were practically the front line of the League for quite some time already." He paused and looked back at Mom and I. "But I was out of my depth and things went very wrong that day."

He exhaled through his nose and set his shoulders.

"It was an all out battle. Team Rocket had Articuno trapped with fire, trying to break her will. We managed to free her, not that she needed our help come to think of it, but she started rampaging. She froze the battlefield solid. It didn't matter who you were, friend or foe. The ice didn't care." His throat worked. "The rest of my squad never made it out and I lost most of my team that day, including my starter, Arcanine."

In my lap, Aurora had gone still. No purring. Just her nose pressed against my wrist.

"I would have died too if your mother and her Fearow hadn't dragged me out in time."

He leaned forward. "I carry that with me every day. I don't want you making the same mistakes." His voice hardened. "My advice would be never underestimate anything. Ever."

I nodded and lifted my mug. The coffee burned the roof of my mouth but I welcomed it.

Dad exhaled slowly. "Team Rocket has only grown stronger since then. Taking whatever power they can reach. If they ever get control of a legendary, the damage won't stop at one town." His fingers curled against the table.

Then his gaze softened. "But none of that is worth your life."

I drew a careful breath and nodded. "I understand. I'll be careful." My mouth was dry, so I lifted the mug again instead. "I promise."

The empty pan hissed on the stove. Nothing else moved.

Then Dad nudged the plate toward me. "Good. I wouldn't be much of a father if I didn't warn you." He let out a breath, the hard lines of his face easing into something older and quieter. "But the road isn't only danger. There's adventure out there too. Friendship, beauty and maybe even a bit of love." He winked at Mom. "Moments that will stay with you forever. It's a life your mother and I miss every single day."

Mom nodded. "And you get to experience it all for the first time." She paused, turning her empty mug slowly in her hands. "And my favourite part was actually the Pokémon themselves. Not the battles or the badges, though those are cool too, if you win." She smiled. "But the relationships you build with your team is like no other."

"They become family," she said, stroking Aurora*.*  "Every single one of them."

I'd never heard her say it quite like that before. Aurora's purr filled the space between us.

"You're getting one today that's been raised from an egg with basic training done and some of the hard edges already smoothed off. That helps at the start." Her mouth curved. "But they still have their own personalities with their own opinions about things. You can't train that out of them and you wouldn't want to."

"My starter was a Spearow, Arrow," she said. "A hardheaded, stubborn, absolutely furious little bird. The Flying type gym leader of Celadon at the time gave him to me the day I was commissioned." She laughed softly at the memory. "He hated me for weeks. Wouldn't listen for a second. Wouldn't come when I called. One time he flew straight into a tree rather than follow an instruction he disagreed with."

"But I didn't give up on him." Her voice steadied. "And eventually, he stopped waiting for me to."

She looked at me. "When he finally trusted me, really trusted me, we were unstoppable. That bird would have flown through fire for me." She paused. "He did, actually, more than once."

The kitchen was quiet for a moment.

Then Dad cleared his throat.

"I started at Cinnabar Island," he said. "Blaine was a lot younger then. Barely looked old enough to run a gym." A faint smile crossed his face at the memory. "He placed a Growlithe in my hands and told me to take good care of him."

His expression shifted.

"I didn't understand what he meant at the time." He looked down at his hands. "I thought he was just saying what gym leaders say. Something ceremonial to make me bond to my new Pokémon. Little did I know that Pokémon would become my best friend. I named him Ember." He said it quietly, like he didn't say it often. "And he was the most loyal Pokémon I have ever known. And in the end, it cost him his life."

He was quiet for a long moment until Mom went over to him and put her arms round him.

"But that's part of it too," he said finally. "Being a trainer comes at many costs and what I think is the worst part is that some of your Pokémon will die.” He met my eyes. "And when it happens, there is nothing in the world that prepares you for it."

"But as my mother told me, it’s better to have loved and to have lost, than to have never loved at all." He exhaled slowly, the weight in his voice lifting just slightly. "And it’s true. Strap in for the trainer-life rollercoaster ride with the best and worst times of your life. The highest highs you will ever feel and the lowest lows. Life altering moments that stay with you so long they stop feeling like memories and start feeling like part of who you are. It all comes together in a life well lived."

He looked at Mom.

She looked back at him.

"Go out and find your place in this world, my son," Dad said.

I took Dad's words to heart. I would find my place. As a trainer. As a human. Someone worth the Knight name.

And maybe, even as a Pokémon Master.