The Azure League
Chapter 1
Fifteen-year-old Tom Anderson woke up, groggy. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was, but it all came back to him, clear as crystal. Tom was in training camp, the annual camp that lasted ten days, held for aspiring young trainers, who hoped to start their journeys. Sighing, Tom wondered why he had to be born in this village, north of Kanto, in the mountain ranges; why here, of all places.
The environment here was tough, and the people that lived here even tougher. Over the course of a year, the climate often ranged from subzero to temperatures fit for a magmar, literally; there was a volcano rather near the village. A dormant one, I might add.
The mountain ranges were a freak, formed when Kanto, formally a decent sized island, slammed into the mainland eons ago. However, the villagers never did complain; food was scarce; they were used to it, the climate was rough; clothing, or the absence of it, solved this, but most importantly, there was a league, the Azure League. This elite league made the Indigo League in Kanto, Johto League in Johto, and the Whirl Cup look like training grounds for beginners. This catered to the toughness, and unyielding courage and determination of the mountain people, of whom the villagers, including Tom belonged.
Most trainers down in Kanto and Johto started off their journeys with a "starter", handed to them by aging professors, or the result of inheritance. Up here, it was different. The villagers believed, correctly, that it took a lot to become a trainer, especially in the Azure League, and only the teens with an iron-hard will could even begin their journey. To this end, the villagers had devised a test. The camp.
The camp tested the participants both physically and mentally, and most importantly, their skills in capturing and training pokemon. Although the official camp only lasted ten days, the real test had begun some two months ago. This was the real gateway that many could not pass through. To catch a pokemon without the help of one, and the only tool you had was three pokeballs; three chances. Some, in desperation, ventured down to the lakes, and tried their luck catching magikarps, unwilling to wait an entire year to go for the test again.
However, even this was difficult. In the north, even the magikarp were not your average magikarp. They were far stronger. Whereas the normal splash "attack" virtually did nothing, these magikarp could drench you, and run off. The pokemon that the young people caught were to be their starters, and that was only part of the challenge. For the two months, the young men had to survive in the wilderness, freezing cold or burning hot, depending on the climate, which was unpredictable.
Tom looked around the cave that he had found on a stroke of luck. It was warm, yet hardly cosy. The ground was irregular and hard, and the only pillow available was his arm; the only food, any scrapes that he could find. There was only a week left before the two months were up, and Tom still hadn't found a decent pokemon. True, even the magikarp in these regions proves a challenge to catch, but Tom knew, that the eighteen gyms on the way to the League would be impossible to beat, with a magikarp.
Venturing outside, Tom looked around. Actually, "snooping" would be a better word, seeing as how Tom has developed a certain tendency to crouch every few steps, minimizing his chances of being discovered by his prey. Tom was psychic, but very weak. His abilities did not extend beyond sensing other psychics, and even then it took him a huge effort to utilize this ability, and the range was pathetically short. Still, Tom knew that this was an edge that he had over the others. Suddenly, he *felt* something. It was a strong signal, a psychic. Tom worked on *shielding* himself, trying to avoid detection. The signal originated from a few metres ahead, in the snow. Knotting his brows in concentration, Tom crawled forward, slower than a slowpoke.
Tom glimpsed his prey. Yellow and brown all over, looking like a cat, it was napping. Tom resisted the impulse to start jumping around in joy. Abras were illusive and rare, and even if one found one, it normally teleported away instantly. Yet, here was an abra, sleeping, seemingly unaware of Tom. Heart pounding, Tom uttered a silently prayer to Articuno, the god of ice, and pounced... into snow.
Nothing.
*Damn!*
The abra was a dozen metres away, still snoring quietly. "It had to be reflex. I will NOT give up on this. I HAVE to catch it". Once again cloaking himself mentally, Tom sprang forward, with all the grace of a Persian. He stopped, still a few metres away from the abra. *Stealth had not worked before; there was no reason why it would work now. Brute force is out of the question…*
Dropping all pretence, Tom stood up, hands extended, palms facing up. It was the universal sign for peace. The abra awoke, sensing Tom's presence even in its sleep. Seeing Tom silently watching, the abra relaxed, studying Tom, *scanning* him. Tom didn't bother shielding himself. It was fruitless, he knew; he simply didn't have the power to prevent a full-blown psychic scan from an abra. Tom put his limited telepathic abilities to use, trying to convey his message to the abra.
When there was no response whatsoever, Tom gave up, going for the simpler approach. Moving slowly, he withdrew some dried rations from his pouch, placing them on his palm. The abra understood. It hovered over to Tom, still keeping a watchful eye on him. Obviously famished, it began "feasting". Tom withdrew a pokeball with his unoccupied hand, keeping the motion in clear view. Trying his hardest, Tom again *reached* for the abra, explaining the purpose of the ball.
*I know what that pokeball is, human.*
Tom was startled. *How can a pokemon talk?* True, that wasn't exactly talking… but it was still unusual, at least in Tom's experience. Speechless, Tom just sat there, waiting for the abra to *talk*. The abra scanned Tom constantly, both physically and mentally. It observed Tom's will to become a pokemon master, to train, to collect.
*I will come with you, human, in return for a favour. *
Tom just listened, carefully, as the abra elaborated on its "plight".
*On my first attempt to teleport, I accidentally came here. That was years ago. Since then, I have attempted time and time again to go back, and yet I found that I could not. And now, I am not sure that I want to. Back where I came from, there was a leader. Yes human, an Alakazam. I would like to become one, not to lead, but to become more powerful. It is this condition that I set for following you. *
*Abra, I cannot turn you into an Alakazam as and when I want. You have to battle others, gain experience, and evolve. Though I cannot turn you into an Alakazam, I can, however, help you to become one. *
The abra seemed to ponder about it. *I will give you an answer by first light, tomorrow. Be gone, human, retreat to what you have made your home. * It teleported away.
Obediently, Tom retreated, trusting the little guy. *He is my only chance. * Tom resolved to convince the abra the next day. He fell asleep, tired from over-exerting his psychic abilities that day.
***
The sun rose, revealing Tom, already up, standing at the mouth of the cave, anxiously looking for the yellow form that haunted his dreams the last night. *I have come. * Those words made Tom smile, and step out of the cave, where the abra waited just to his right. "Go pokeball!" The red and white pokeball flew towards abra, and opened withdrawing it into a red swirl; its energy form, and closed. There was no shaking, just a "ping!" that Tom had, literally, waited fifteen years to hear. His first catch. True, he did not really catch it, but that was just a technicality. "Abra, come on out!" Abra materialized in a white flash, turned to Tom, and said, *I would like you to meet my playmates. *
Understandably, what came first to Tom's mind of a vision of three abras running around in the snow, which is why he was shocked when a magby and an elekid came into view. *Both of them wanted to evolve, as you call it, and so I suggested coming to you. Yesterday, when I was "considering", it was not for myself, but in consideration for them. It is your choice. *
Tom was elated, to say the least. If he had wanted to catch them, it would be next to impossible. Elekids and magbies were rare, and their evolved forms, powerful beyond imagine. Smiling, he tossed two pokeballs capturing magby and elekid, and then released them again. He sat down, and asked abra to translate for him what the other two were saying, if possible. All three knew the situation that Tom was in, courtesy of abra, who had, apparently, spent half the afternoon yesterday explaining to them everything that he had "learnt" from his psychic scans. That saved him a lot of time, and he got right to the point, saying that he only had four more days, and wanted to get some training done before the formal, ten-day camp began. "Now, lets find out what attacks you have..."
***
The next few days passed quickly, and the three pokemon, showing great enthusiasm and initiative from the start, had trained with each other and the rare wild pokemon that they found. Tom, without any more pokeballs, did not bother weakening the pokemon, rather, to faint them in one hit, if possible. What made it easy for the three to get along as playmates was obvious; they did not have any type advantages over each other, and were all approximately the same size, and at the first and weakest stage of evolution. The day had come. Tom returned all three pokemon, gathered up the meagre belongings that he had brought along to the cave, and began the long, hard track back to the village; back to the camp.
***
All eyes were upon Tom's large and muscular frame as he entered the large hall. Standing at 1.8 metres tall, he was easily one of the tallest in the room, and looking around at the dejected faces of many people, one of the luckiest as well. After all, he had three pokemon, all of which were currently out of their pokeballs, observing the comings and goings of the people silently. With magby and elekid, each perched on one shoulder, and abra nestled in his hands, Tom certainly didn't look as if he wasn't even a certified trainer.
*I probably look like one of those veterans that keep his smaller pokemon about him.* Tom mused, amused at the stares that he was getting. One boy, however caught Tom's eye. What was so special about the boy, ironically, was that the boy was not gawking at Tom. Tom casually strolled to the boy, observing with raised eyebrows that the boy had two pokeballs on his belt. *Woah! Looks like he got quite a haul.* Tom's thoughts were interrupted, when the boy held out his hand.
"Hi there, name's Angus, Angus Mactash", the boy intoned in an ascent that Tom could not identify. *A foreigner...* Tom allowed himself no outward reaction, but was inwardly impressed at the "city boy" who had chosen to undergo the hard pokemon journey in the Azure League instead of the far simpler Indigo or Orange League. Heck, even the Johto League and Whirl Cup combined was, and still is easier than the Azure League. *This is no town boy; he's good...* Tom introduced himself, and settled down for a conversation, trying to find out as much about this stranger as possible. The two pokeballs, he found weren't your everyday pokemon either; they were a scyther and a sneasel, none of them pushovers.
Angus himself however, had a surprising background. He was an orphan, and grew up in Pallet Town, the hometown of some of the most famous trainers and researchers of pokemon the world had ever known. He was tutored by a French, explaining his ascent, and having no blood ties, decided to become a trainer at the tender age of ten. He had a pretty good build for his age, and had caught both of his pokemon himself, and had invested a fair amount of time in their training, possibly less intensive than Tom, but definitely a larger amount.
"Ding! May I have your attention please!" All conversation in the large hall paused, and all eyes turned to the stage as the announcer spoke up. "I am sure that all of you know the routine by now, but for those who don't, I shall explain it once more. For two months, every one of you have tried your best to catch pokemon, without the help of a starter. I commend all your efforts, and for those of you whose efforts have proven in vain, please train harder, and try again next year, and regard this as a experience. For those that had a catch, or more than one...", the announcer glances at several trainers at this point, "...congratulations, for you are now on the difficult road to the Azure League."
The entire hall erupted in cheers at this point, even those that hadn't caught anything were happy for those who did. The noise level died down as the announcer continued, "For those who has a pokemon *that he caught*, please come forward, to receive your license and pokedex, as well as some pokeballs, and you may take your leave."
Only fourteen teens came up to the stage. Only fourteen, out of the sixty three participants had caught a pokemon. Once again, cheers rose for these capable young men, now trainers. These fourteen, among them Tom and Angus, bowed, and took their leave, some going home to say their goodbyes, others continuing their interrupted conversations. Angus left, silently, and even Tom, pushing his way through the crowd that had gathered around the stage, could not catch up. *What's up with him?*
***
Tom sighed, at last free of the crowd that had engulfed him, the reporters that tried to get an interview, the people asking how he had caught three pokemon. He went home, said his goodbyes, and tolerated his mother tossing his brown hair for the last time, and his dad, giving him a huge bear hug. He gathering up his belongings into a compact rucksack, brought along a decent supply of money, and slept, for the last time, in his bed.
Getting up bright and early, Tom shook off his sleepiness, dressed, and took his pack downstairs, where his entire family waited, his mother almost in tears, his dad looking proud. Tom accepted the pokegear from his parents, promised to call often, and walked off quickly, to avoid bursting out in tears, to avoid being swallowed up by grief, and most of all, to avoid regretting his decision to start on the journey.
The trainers gathered, all fourteen of them, standing proud in the knowledge that they had passed the first test on the road to becoming a master. The announcer from the previous day was also present. The organiser of the camp stood up to give his speech, "Now that only the ones worth are present..." This elicited a chuckle from the trainers. "...I shall get straight to the point. This test may be a hard one, seeing as how only a quarter of the participants passed, but it is only one of many, and may well be the easiest. Never slack up on your training, never forget that there is always a greater trainer, a greater pokemon, and most of all, always show love and concern for your pokemon. They are not tools of war; not warriors used to settle petty conflicts; not slaves to do your bidding, but your friends. Over time, you will form a bond with your partners, and I say partners, for that is what they are, not underlings. Treat them as you would a good friend, and they will obey your commands; treat them harshly, and they will be your downfall. These are my advice to you; never forget them, and may they serve you well on your journey." There was a moment of silence, after which applause erupted from those present.
The announcer took to the podium, and began to tell the trainers more about the league. "As you all know, this league is Azure League has only recently been set up, but has proven to be the most challenging of them all. There are eighteen gyms, scattered across the Azure mountain ranges, and all gym leaders have been ranked among the top eight in at least one of the other leagues. Seventeen of these gyms all have a central theme, but not the last one. There will be one gym for each of the seventeen types, and yet one with mixed pokemon. You will need to earn all eighteen badges to qualify for the league. Do not underestimate any of the gym leaders, even if you have the definite type advantage; all of the leaders would have strategies to counter their weaknesses. All of you have pokegears or at least a pokedex. Both of these have built-in maps, automatically updated daily through satellites. Should you be lost, using the GPS to find your way, for use the beacons to signal for help. Should you need any supplies, they can be bought at the gyms, since all the gyms have pokecentres and pokemarts nearby. Often, the gyms will have prizes for winning, be it a TM, the loan of a HM, teaching your pokemon a new move or simply an item. Please find out if the gym that you are battling gives out prizes, since most will be very useful to your journey. That is all, and may Articuno be with you."
The trainers, now completely silent, scattered. Some departed straightaway for their journey, while others lined up to ask questions. Tom did the former, glancing at the map, then advancing up the mountains, letting out his three pokemon, and headed towards the first gym, the grass gym. Knowing that magby alone could not handle the entire gym challenge, at least not yet, Tom decided to get some more training done on the way.
Chapter 1
Fifteen-year-old Tom Anderson woke up, groggy. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was, but it all came back to him, clear as crystal. Tom was in training camp, the annual camp that lasted ten days, held for aspiring young trainers, who hoped to start their journeys. Sighing, Tom wondered why he had to be born in this village, north of Kanto, in the mountain ranges; why here, of all places.
The environment here was tough, and the people that lived here even tougher. Over the course of a year, the climate often ranged from subzero to temperatures fit for a magmar, literally; there was a volcano rather near the village. A dormant one, I might add.
The mountain ranges were a freak, formed when Kanto, formally a decent sized island, slammed into the mainland eons ago. However, the villagers never did complain; food was scarce; they were used to it, the climate was rough; clothing, or the absence of it, solved this, but most importantly, there was a league, the Azure League. This elite league made the Indigo League in Kanto, Johto League in Johto, and the Whirl Cup look like training grounds for beginners. This catered to the toughness, and unyielding courage and determination of the mountain people, of whom the villagers, including Tom belonged.
Most trainers down in Kanto and Johto started off their journeys with a "starter", handed to them by aging professors, or the result of inheritance. Up here, it was different. The villagers believed, correctly, that it took a lot to become a trainer, especially in the Azure League, and only the teens with an iron-hard will could even begin their journey. To this end, the villagers had devised a test. The camp.
The camp tested the participants both physically and mentally, and most importantly, their skills in capturing and training pokemon. Although the official camp only lasted ten days, the real test had begun some two months ago. This was the real gateway that many could not pass through. To catch a pokemon without the help of one, and the only tool you had was three pokeballs; three chances. Some, in desperation, ventured down to the lakes, and tried their luck catching magikarps, unwilling to wait an entire year to go for the test again.
However, even this was difficult. In the north, even the magikarp were not your average magikarp. They were far stronger. Whereas the normal splash "attack" virtually did nothing, these magikarp could drench you, and run off. The pokemon that the young people caught were to be their starters, and that was only part of the challenge. For the two months, the young men had to survive in the wilderness, freezing cold or burning hot, depending on the climate, which was unpredictable.
Tom looked around the cave that he had found on a stroke of luck. It was warm, yet hardly cosy. The ground was irregular and hard, and the only pillow available was his arm; the only food, any scrapes that he could find. There was only a week left before the two months were up, and Tom still hadn't found a decent pokemon. True, even the magikarp in these regions proves a challenge to catch, but Tom knew, that the eighteen gyms on the way to the League would be impossible to beat, with a magikarp.
Venturing outside, Tom looked around. Actually, "snooping" would be a better word, seeing as how Tom has developed a certain tendency to crouch every few steps, minimizing his chances of being discovered by his prey. Tom was psychic, but very weak. His abilities did not extend beyond sensing other psychics, and even then it took him a huge effort to utilize this ability, and the range was pathetically short. Still, Tom knew that this was an edge that he had over the others. Suddenly, he *felt* something. It was a strong signal, a psychic. Tom worked on *shielding* himself, trying to avoid detection. The signal originated from a few metres ahead, in the snow. Knotting his brows in concentration, Tom crawled forward, slower than a slowpoke.
Tom glimpsed his prey. Yellow and brown all over, looking like a cat, it was napping. Tom resisted the impulse to start jumping around in joy. Abras were illusive and rare, and even if one found one, it normally teleported away instantly. Yet, here was an abra, sleeping, seemingly unaware of Tom. Heart pounding, Tom uttered a silently prayer to Articuno, the god of ice, and pounced... into snow.
Nothing.
*Damn!*
The abra was a dozen metres away, still snoring quietly. "It had to be reflex. I will NOT give up on this. I HAVE to catch it". Once again cloaking himself mentally, Tom sprang forward, with all the grace of a Persian. He stopped, still a few metres away from the abra. *Stealth had not worked before; there was no reason why it would work now. Brute force is out of the question…*
Dropping all pretence, Tom stood up, hands extended, palms facing up. It was the universal sign for peace. The abra awoke, sensing Tom's presence even in its sleep. Seeing Tom silently watching, the abra relaxed, studying Tom, *scanning* him. Tom didn't bother shielding himself. It was fruitless, he knew; he simply didn't have the power to prevent a full-blown psychic scan from an abra. Tom put his limited telepathic abilities to use, trying to convey his message to the abra.
When there was no response whatsoever, Tom gave up, going for the simpler approach. Moving slowly, he withdrew some dried rations from his pouch, placing them on his palm. The abra understood. It hovered over to Tom, still keeping a watchful eye on him. Obviously famished, it began "feasting". Tom withdrew a pokeball with his unoccupied hand, keeping the motion in clear view. Trying his hardest, Tom again *reached* for the abra, explaining the purpose of the ball.
*I know what that pokeball is, human.*
Tom was startled. *How can a pokemon talk?* True, that wasn't exactly talking… but it was still unusual, at least in Tom's experience. Speechless, Tom just sat there, waiting for the abra to *talk*. The abra scanned Tom constantly, both physically and mentally. It observed Tom's will to become a pokemon master, to train, to collect.
*I will come with you, human, in return for a favour. *
Tom just listened, carefully, as the abra elaborated on its "plight".
*On my first attempt to teleport, I accidentally came here. That was years ago. Since then, I have attempted time and time again to go back, and yet I found that I could not. And now, I am not sure that I want to. Back where I came from, there was a leader. Yes human, an Alakazam. I would like to become one, not to lead, but to become more powerful. It is this condition that I set for following you. *
*Abra, I cannot turn you into an Alakazam as and when I want. You have to battle others, gain experience, and evolve. Though I cannot turn you into an Alakazam, I can, however, help you to become one. *
The abra seemed to ponder about it. *I will give you an answer by first light, tomorrow. Be gone, human, retreat to what you have made your home. * It teleported away.
Obediently, Tom retreated, trusting the little guy. *He is my only chance. * Tom resolved to convince the abra the next day. He fell asleep, tired from over-exerting his psychic abilities that day.
***
The sun rose, revealing Tom, already up, standing at the mouth of the cave, anxiously looking for the yellow form that haunted his dreams the last night. *I have come. * Those words made Tom smile, and step out of the cave, where the abra waited just to his right. "Go pokeball!" The red and white pokeball flew towards abra, and opened withdrawing it into a red swirl; its energy form, and closed. There was no shaking, just a "ping!" that Tom had, literally, waited fifteen years to hear. His first catch. True, he did not really catch it, but that was just a technicality. "Abra, come on out!" Abra materialized in a white flash, turned to Tom, and said, *I would like you to meet my playmates. *
Understandably, what came first to Tom's mind of a vision of three abras running around in the snow, which is why he was shocked when a magby and an elekid came into view. *Both of them wanted to evolve, as you call it, and so I suggested coming to you. Yesterday, when I was "considering", it was not for myself, but in consideration for them. It is your choice. *
Tom was elated, to say the least. If he had wanted to catch them, it would be next to impossible. Elekids and magbies were rare, and their evolved forms, powerful beyond imagine. Smiling, he tossed two pokeballs capturing magby and elekid, and then released them again. He sat down, and asked abra to translate for him what the other two were saying, if possible. All three knew the situation that Tom was in, courtesy of abra, who had, apparently, spent half the afternoon yesterday explaining to them everything that he had "learnt" from his psychic scans. That saved him a lot of time, and he got right to the point, saying that he only had four more days, and wanted to get some training done before the formal, ten-day camp began. "Now, lets find out what attacks you have..."
***
The next few days passed quickly, and the three pokemon, showing great enthusiasm and initiative from the start, had trained with each other and the rare wild pokemon that they found. Tom, without any more pokeballs, did not bother weakening the pokemon, rather, to faint them in one hit, if possible. What made it easy for the three to get along as playmates was obvious; they did not have any type advantages over each other, and were all approximately the same size, and at the first and weakest stage of evolution. The day had come. Tom returned all three pokemon, gathered up the meagre belongings that he had brought along to the cave, and began the long, hard track back to the village; back to the camp.
***
All eyes were upon Tom's large and muscular frame as he entered the large hall. Standing at 1.8 metres tall, he was easily one of the tallest in the room, and looking around at the dejected faces of many people, one of the luckiest as well. After all, he had three pokemon, all of which were currently out of their pokeballs, observing the comings and goings of the people silently. With magby and elekid, each perched on one shoulder, and abra nestled in his hands, Tom certainly didn't look as if he wasn't even a certified trainer.
*I probably look like one of those veterans that keep his smaller pokemon about him.* Tom mused, amused at the stares that he was getting. One boy, however caught Tom's eye. What was so special about the boy, ironically, was that the boy was not gawking at Tom. Tom casually strolled to the boy, observing with raised eyebrows that the boy had two pokeballs on his belt. *Woah! Looks like he got quite a haul.* Tom's thoughts were interrupted, when the boy held out his hand.
"Hi there, name's Angus, Angus Mactash", the boy intoned in an ascent that Tom could not identify. *A foreigner...* Tom allowed himself no outward reaction, but was inwardly impressed at the "city boy" who had chosen to undergo the hard pokemon journey in the Azure League instead of the far simpler Indigo or Orange League. Heck, even the Johto League and Whirl Cup combined was, and still is easier than the Azure League. *This is no town boy; he's good...* Tom introduced himself, and settled down for a conversation, trying to find out as much about this stranger as possible. The two pokeballs, he found weren't your everyday pokemon either; they were a scyther and a sneasel, none of them pushovers.
Angus himself however, had a surprising background. He was an orphan, and grew up in Pallet Town, the hometown of some of the most famous trainers and researchers of pokemon the world had ever known. He was tutored by a French, explaining his ascent, and having no blood ties, decided to become a trainer at the tender age of ten. He had a pretty good build for his age, and had caught both of his pokemon himself, and had invested a fair amount of time in their training, possibly less intensive than Tom, but definitely a larger amount.
"Ding! May I have your attention please!" All conversation in the large hall paused, and all eyes turned to the stage as the announcer spoke up. "I am sure that all of you know the routine by now, but for those who don't, I shall explain it once more. For two months, every one of you have tried your best to catch pokemon, without the help of a starter. I commend all your efforts, and for those of you whose efforts have proven in vain, please train harder, and try again next year, and regard this as a experience. For those that had a catch, or more than one...", the announcer glances at several trainers at this point, "...congratulations, for you are now on the difficult road to the Azure League."
The entire hall erupted in cheers at this point, even those that hadn't caught anything were happy for those who did. The noise level died down as the announcer continued, "For those who has a pokemon *that he caught*, please come forward, to receive your license and pokedex, as well as some pokeballs, and you may take your leave."
Only fourteen teens came up to the stage. Only fourteen, out of the sixty three participants had caught a pokemon. Once again, cheers rose for these capable young men, now trainers. These fourteen, among them Tom and Angus, bowed, and took their leave, some going home to say their goodbyes, others continuing their interrupted conversations. Angus left, silently, and even Tom, pushing his way through the crowd that had gathered around the stage, could not catch up. *What's up with him?*
***
Tom sighed, at last free of the crowd that had engulfed him, the reporters that tried to get an interview, the people asking how he had caught three pokemon. He went home, said his goodbyes, and tolerated his mother tossing his brown hair for the last time, and his dad, giving him a huge bear hug. He gathering up his belongings into a compact rucksack, brought along a decent supply of money, and slept, for the last time, in his bed.
Getting up bright and early, Tom shook off his sleepiness, dressed, and took his pack downstairs, where his entire family waited, his mother almost in tears, his dad looking proud. Tom accepted the pokegear from his parents, promised to call often, and walked off quickly, to avoid bursting out in tears, to avoid being swallowed up by grief, and most of all, to avoid regretting his decision to start on the journey.
The trainers gathered, all fourteen of them, standing proud in the knowledge that they had passed the first test on the road to becoming a master. The announcer from the previous day was also present. The organiser of the camp stood up to give his speech, "Now that only the ones worth are present..." This elicited a chuckle from the trainers. "...I shall get straight to the point. This test may be a hard one, seeing as how only a quarter of the participants passed, but it is only one of many, and may well be the easiest. Never slack up on your training, never forget that there is always a greater trainer, a greater pokemon, and most of all, always show love and concern for your pokemon. They are not tools of war; not warriors used to settle petty conflicts; not slaves to do your bidding, but your friends. Over time, you will form a bond with your partners, and I say partners, for that is what they are, not underlings. Treat them as you would a good friend, and they will obey your commands; treat them harshly, and they will be your downfall. These are my advice to you; never forget them, and may they serve you well on your journey." There was a moment of silence, after which applause erupted from those present.
The announcer took to the podium, and began to tell the trainers more about the league. "As you all know, this league is Azure League has only recently been set up, but has proven to be the most challenging of them all. There are eighteen gyms, scattered across the Azure mountain ranges, and all gym leaders have been ranked among the top eight in at least one of the other leagues. Seventeen of these gyms all have a central theme, but not the last one. There will be one gym for each of the seventeen types, and yet one with mixed pokemon. You will need to earn all eighteen badges to qualify for the league. Do not underestimate any of the gym leaders, even if you have the definite type advantage; all of the leaders would have strategies to counter their weaknesses. All of you have pokegears or at least a pokedex. Both of these have built-in maps, automatically updated daily through satellites. Should you be lost, using the GPS to find your way, for use the beacons to signal for help. Should you need any supplies, they can be bought at the gyms, since all the gyms have pokecentres and pokemarts nearby. Often, the gyms will have prizes for winning, be it a TM, the loan of a HM, teaching your pokemon a new move or simply an item. Please find out if the gym that you are battling gives out prizes, since most will be very useful to your journey. That is all, and may Articuno be with you."
The trainers, now completely silent, scattered. Some departed straightaway for their journey, while others lined up to ask questions. Tom did the former, glancing at the map, then advancing up the mountains, letting out his three pokemon, and headed towards the first gym, the grass gym. Knowing that magby alone could not handle the entire gym challenge, at least not yet, Tom decided to get some more training done on the way.